Harry Potter and the Quest for Book 6
by Muppetboy
Summary: Harry & Co return to Hogwarts for year 6. Everything you'd expect from a year at Hogwarts, including Quidditch, ghosts, Firewhiskey, duels, girls and the Hospital Wing. Please read & review
1. Default Chapter

July  
  
The sun beat down on the uniform rooftops, radiating the heat of summer and scorching the grass. The sounds of children laughing in a nearby garden echoed through the Saturday humdrum of lawn mowers and hedge clippers. House windows were left open, to catch the breeze, not that there was much to be caught.  
  
Sitting in the shade of a large oak tree in the backyard of number four Privet Drive, was a teenage boy. His messy hair shadowing his be-speckled eyes from the sun, his hands curled around the thick book he'd been reading for the past two hours. He appeared much like any other fifteen-year-old boy, with the exception of the lightening bolt scar on his forehead.  
  
Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, had suffered the end of the worst of all years, just a few weeks ago. With the loss of his godfather, his mood had become less open, less friendly, and less obedient, especially toward his relatives. He had seen and felt more than any person four times his age, and he chose to tuck his feelings concerning all of it away, rather than confront them. It was less painful to think of oneself as cold, and unfeeling, then to grieve for hours and days on end. Since the death of his godfather, his whole life had taken on a new routine.  
  
He was pre-occupied with death, which is unsurprising given the events of his past, both recent and distant. When you died, he thought, either your shadow stayed behind as a ghost or you were lost completely. Your body decayed and your magic got scattered all around the universe.  
  
Today was one of the few he had spent outside. Otherwise a typical day would involve lying on his bed, in a stupor, staring at the ceiling going over the events of that night time & time again, wondering what he could have done to make the ending different. He remembered how cross he had been last year when he was left with the Dursleys with no contact from the wizarding world. This year, he didn't care; he didn't care about much.  
  
By night he was visited in his dreams by Lord Voldemort, and the ghosts of his parents, Cedric Diggory and Sirius.  
  
Uncle Vernon's fat face appeared at the doorway. Seeing Harry sat down he bellowed 'Don't just sit there boy, get up and mow the lawn'.  
  
Not for the first time, Harry's temper got the better of him. 'Do it yourself' he replied.  
  
His uncle stormed over to him. 'I don't care what your problem is boy' he snarled quietly 'but if you don't, I'll kick you out like I should have and you can take your chances with Lord whatsit and he's dementals'  
  
Harry hadn't told his Aunt & Uncle about that night in the Ministry of Magic. They didn't know what had happened, and their lives carried on, unchanged. He got up and slouched over to the garage.  
  
His uncle watched him then returned to the kitchen where it was much cooler.  
  
'What's wrong with that boy?' asked Uncle Vernon to his wife. 'He's become even more unruly since he's come back from that school. I don't know what they teach them there, but it certainly isn't manners'  
  
'He's not at all like Dudders' replied Petunia. 'At least he's out doing something instead of lazing around looking miserable.'  
  
'Where is he then? At the gym again?'  
  
Petunia nodded, and Vernon smiled then replied 'Good. That skinny little runt would do better to follow his example'  
  
Harry didn't bother to wipe the sweat dripping from his forehead as he turned off the lawnmower and slowly pushed it back towards the Dursleys' open garage door. The garage itself was empty. No doubt Dudley was off in his second car, having crashed his first one the day after he'd received his license.  
  
Much to Dudley's dismay, Harry was unimpressed by muggle transportation. A shiny Volkswagen was nothing compared to flying on his Firebolt, which had been sent to him a few days after his return to number four Privet Drive. He couldn't ride it in the muggle world, but had enjoyed cleaning it now that it was back with him. The broom's return reminded him of his easier days of Quidditch and studying. Sometimes Harry liked to be reminded of those days and he thought of them fondly; they were memories of someone else's life.  
  
He had felt like a different person ever since he stumbled out of Dumbledore's office on that sad and tragic night. He could recall the meeting as though it had taken place the night before, not three weeks ago: Dumbledore's explanation, his burden of guilt, his admission of the truth and of the prophecy. And somehow, this had comforted him in the most miserable and furious moments alone on Privet Drive.  
  
Even after he'd put the lawnmower away, he could see Aunt Petunia's head sticking out the kitchen window. She was peering closely at him with those beady eyes of hers. He did not acknowledge her supervision and walked back out onto the lawn, stretching his arms over his head.  
  
He began doing chores for the Dursleys as a sort of reparation for the many new privileges he'd enjoyed over the past few weeks. Harry was allowed to watch television, which he did every morning, but it was only to watch the news as he had the previous summer, only this time he could be on the couch instead of hiding in the flowerbed. The Dursleys were not used to his presence in their sitting room, but didn't question him about only watching the news. Aunt Petunia would fold and unfold her hands nervously in her lap every morning. Harry could tell she was uncomfortable in his presence, but the memory of 'Mad Eye' Moody was still fresh in her mind, so she tolerated it.  
  
Harry left the lawnmower in the garage and returned to the tree.  
  
'Don't forget the weeds as well' called his Aunt  
  
He got down on his hands and knees to remove some stubborn weeds that had managed to escape the wrath of the lawnmower. If he could have used his wand, he'd have been able to massacre the weeds with no problem.  
After pulling up the weeds and throwing them into the rubbish bin in the garage, Harry checked his digital watch -lunchtime. He wiped his dirty hands on his jeans and walked to the kitchen.  
  
The mowing & weeding had absorbed his bad mood, while the pleasant summers day lifted his spirits so much that he decided to open a new school book - The Advanced Book of Dark Arts and Forbidden Curses. If it hadn't been for Dumbledore authorising his purchase, the storekeeper at Flourish and Blotts would not have sold it to him. Usually, this sort of book was reserved for Aurors only, but considering the news of the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, it was considered logical for Harry to be armed with as much information as possible.  
  
Harry shifted slightly on the hard ground; feeling the wand he had tucked within his shirt, poke him in his side. He had taken to carrying his only object of defence with him last year, and continued the habit now. His senses that had been so dull these last few weeks, were heightened and alert to every sigh and every whisper of the children  
  
Harry continued to read a particularly difficult spell on disembowelment, when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up in response to an oversized shadow that fell across him. Looking up from his reading with a frown, Harry saw his enormous cousin standing over him, his usual smirk of distaste etched on his face, his fat hand wrapped around a large ice cream cone.  
  
"Are you trying to convince someone, you know how to read?" Dudley snorted loudly. "That freak school you go to can't possibly have normal lessons."  
  
The stupid smile he was wearing suddenly disappeared when he took notice of the type of book his cousin was reading.  
  
"Wh...What is that?" he stammered. Seeing the wording on the front cover, he gave an audible gasp that sounded much like a pig snorting. His normal dim-witted reactions slowed even more than normal, as a look of fear crossed his suddenly pale features.  
  
"Dad will kill you, when he sees you reading that thing," Dudley announced, pointing a podgy finger to the book Harry was reading.  
  
"Sod off, Porky", Harry snarled, watching the fear cross his cousin's beady eyes.  
Dudley paled. "You can't use magic outside of that freakish school of yours."  
"I honestly don't mind bending the rules on you. A tail would go nicely since that seems to be the only thing you're missing in your pig costume," Harry sneered.  
Dudley grabbed his bottom. His many chins quivered in fear. Then he turned around quickly, and rushed back into the house. Moments later he returned with his equally engorged father.  
  
"Dad, look what Harry is reading, see I told you" Dudley announced proudly.  
  
Uncle Vernon glanced down to his nephew, instantly turning a shade of purple that matched the plums in Petunia's kitchen drawer.  
"What are you doing out of the house with that?" demanded Uncle Vernon in a soft growl, the veins in the side of his neck popping out dangerously.  
  
"Don't know, but my guess would be, reading it." Harry's good mood vanished.  
  
"Don't take that tone of voice with me, boy, and get back in the house before the neighbours see you," Uncle Vernon demanded.  
  
Harry stood slowly  
  
"As you wish," Harry said coolly. "I have a letter to send to Mad-Eye Moody, anyway."  
  
The announcement of the man who had threatened Vernon at King's Cross at the beginning of summer, caused a sudden fear to race through the fat man's frame, forcing the purple in his chubby cheeks to turn ashen.  
  
Harry smiled brightly to himself as he walked and into the kitchen, past Aunt Petunia, and up the stairs to his cramped bedroom.  
  
Harry felt a soft pang of guilt in the back of his head, with the realisation that he hadn't sent an owl to Moody or anyone, and not even replied to the letters they sent him. He flopped down onto his bed and began staring at the ceiling again.  
  
Stupid street.  
Stupid house.  
Stupid neighbours.  
Stupid neighbourhood.  
Stupid school.  
Stupid people in the stupid school.  
Stupid Dursleys Stupid dark wizards for killing my parents.  
Stupid Dumbledore for thinking he can solve everything.  
Stupid reasons he gives for not telling me before why I was destined to kill Voldemort.  
Stupid, stupid, stupid.  
Damn you prophecy for ruining my life.  
  
He hated his relatives as much as they hated him, and it gave him a shimmer of pleasure to irritate them occasionally for all the grief they have given him, over the years. Sitting on his small bed, Harry opened the book again, re-reading the spell he had been studying for the past two hours. The sudden pain in his head, forced him to finally pay attention to it, and he tossed the large leather clad item aside, resting his head back against his flat pillow.  
  
His scar was getting on his nerves. It was bad enough Lord Voldemort appearing in his dreams at night, taunting him, blaming him for Sirius's death, without his scar reminding him.  
  
Then he remembered that prophecy again; the one that started all this trouble. It was odd that a woman, who as Professor Umbridge had pointed out, was incapable of predicting the weather, could have foreseen such dramatic events that changed the course of Harry's life. Harry was starting to come to terms with what it all meant.  
  
If he was to fight Voldemort, he was going to fight to win and rid the world of a terrible wizard. He's anger was all coming back now, his parents sacrifice, Cedric's & Sirius's deaths, all caused by one person.  
  
To win, he needed knowledge, and he needed practice, something he couldn't do, unless he wanted to be in trouble again. He needed another thing: To get back to the Wizard World. It was time to write some letters and give Hedwig something useful to do, apart from hunting.  
  
Dinner at the Dursleys was outright boring, in Harry's opinion. He was now allowed to join his aunt and uncle at the table. For every other meal of the day he had to eat in the kitchen, standing over the sink. Aunt Petunia would fuss about him, threatening his life if he spilled on the carpet.  
  
In contrast to meals at the sink, Harry was invisible at the kitchen table. When his aunt and uncle did speak, they spoke only to each other and did not even look at him. It was fine with Harry. He didn't have to be polite and ask them to pass this or that, and he even got to sit down properly.  
  
Tonight was no exception. Mr. Dursley was sitting at the table, reading his newspaper and chewing loudly. Harry wished that he could read the Daily Prophet as he ate, but knew it was out of the question.  
  
Aunt Petunia sat at the table looking bored and indifferent. She scooped up her peas with her fork one by one and slipped them into her mouth. Harry was just about to reach for his second helping of kidney pie when there was a great hoot from outside the back window. A small, brown barn owl was hovering in the air, pecking at the glass.  
Aunt Petunia screamed. Uncle Vernon looked up from his paper and turned to the back window, horrified.  
  
"Boy, I warned you last time..."  
  
But before he could yell any further, Harry got up from his seat and sprinted outside, where he untied the parchment envelope from the owl's leg. He gestured up to his room where Hedwig was usually perched. He hoped the owl would get the message as he turned on his heel and walked back into the dining room.  
  
"I told you boy, no more owls in my house!"  
  
"Technically, the owl wasn't in the house," Harry replied. Uncle Vernon didn't object. He was staring at the envelope in Harry's hand.  
  
"That's got my name on it," he snarled. "Boy, why has that letter got my name on it? Do you know what would happen if people saw my name on it?"  
  
Harry looked down at the mail in disbelief. Who would be writing to his uncle?  
  
Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursley Care of Harry Potter Number Four Privet Drive Little Whinging, Surrey  
  
When Harry flipped the letter over to open it, there was a stamp that said:  
  
Top Secret Information Those who open this letter and are not the addressee will be hexed immediately.  
  
He recognised the seal of the Ministry of Magic in wax, holding the letter shut. Afraid he would get hexed because the letter was not technically addressed to him, Harry handed the letter over to his uncle. "I think you should open it."  
  
Uncle Vernon turned very pale and eyed Harry curiously. "What is the meaning of this?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "I don't know, but it's addressed to you, so you'd better open it."  
  
After a few minutes of debating with Aunt Petunia, Harry's uncle took a deep breath and ripped open the envelope, bracing himself for the worst. When nothing happened, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He briefly wondered what he had done wrong now that his aunt and uncle would receive a letter from the Ministry.  
  
But after reading the letter several times over, Uncle Vernon turned to Harry looking very confused. "Boy, did you take some kind of... some sort of... tests?"  
  
Harry's eyes lit up with the realisation that what he had just received were the results of his O.W.L. examinations. He snatched the letter as fast as he'd ever taken the snitch from Malfoy and took a moment to pray before reading.  
  
Dear Harry Potter and Guardians,  
  
Enclosed are the results from the Ordinary Wizarding Level (O.W.L.) examinations. Please read them over carefully as they will be very vital to your future at Hogwarts. Upon receiving the results, please consult the N.E.W.T. programs form also included in this letter and fill it out to the best of your knowledge. Send it back to your head of house and expect a list of school supplies the week before the next term. Any protests or complaints can be lodged with Griselda Marchbanks of the Wizarding Examinations Authority.  
  
The grading scale works as follows: O is Outstanding, E is Exceeds Expectations, A is Acceptable, P is Poor, D is Dreadful, and T is Terrible. Anything lower than an A is a failing grade.  
  
Harry was momentarily glad that T did not stand for Troll as Fred and George had told him, but his anxiety only increased. He tried to remember what McGonagall had told him about becoming an Auror. He needed to take five N.E.W.T. classes all together. Professor McGonagall had only told him four subjects he needed to take and they were Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions. But if he wanted to take the N.E.W.T. classes, he would need certain grades in his O.W.L.s. If only Harry could remember more clearly. He thought he needed at least an E in Transfiguration and an O in Potions.  
  
Fat chance, he thought bitterly. He was positive there was no way he had received an Outstanding grade in Potions, and if he didn't have an O, then Snape wouldn't accept him onto the course.  
  
As he turned the piece of parchment over to reveal his grades, Harry realised his hands were shaking. If he couldn't be an Auror, what else would he do?  
  
CLASS THEORY PRACTICAL OVERALL  
  
Charms O E E Transfiguration E O O Herbology E A A Defence Against Dark Arts OO O Care of Magical Creatures E O O Astronomy E A E Divination - P PP History of Magic D -D Potions E O O  
  
Harry couldn't believe what he was reading. At the bottom of the slip of parchment, next to Potions, was an O. He'd achieved an outstanding O.W.L. in Potions! He'd forgotten where he was and began jumping up and down in the middle of the Dursleys' dining room.  
  
"I don't believe it! I don't believe it!" Harry cried. "I've done it!"  
  
"Sit down boy!" Uncle Dursley growled. But Harry wasn't listening. He could have kissed his uncle he was so happy.  
  
Sirius. He wanted to tell Sirius. He wanted to -  
  
Harry realised with a start that Sirius wasn't there. There was no one there for him. He felt empty, a huge void inside of him. He was lonely. Anger flared up inside of him at his own stupidity. How could he have forgotten?  
  
He didn't want to feel at all anymore.  
  
Harry could barely hear his uncle shouting at him as he fell back into his chair. Somewhere in the distance a phone was ringing, but Harry was concentrating so hard on not getting emotional that he though it was on the television.  
  
"It's for you," Uncle Vernon spat, and dropped the cordless telephone into Harry's lap. Bewildered, Harry picked up the phone and tried to bring himself back to reality. Forget about Sirius, he thought. Forget about the Ministry, forget about everyone. Don't feel.  
  
"Hello?" Harry whispered.  
  
"Harry?!" It was Hermione's voice that greeted him on the other end of the phone. "Harry, you sound dreadful! Did you just get your O.W.L. letter?"  
  
Harry nodded, but then realised that Hermione couldn't see a nod through a phone. "Y-yes. I did."  
  
"Oh, how did you do?" Hermione squealed. "It can't be all that bad Harry."  
  
"No, I... I did fine," Harry replied, managing a light laugh that his heart wasn't really in. "I actually got an Outstanding in Potions." He barely believed it himself.  
  
"That's excellent, Harry! I knew you would be great at Potions if you didn't have Snape breathing down your neck."  
  
"How did you do?" he asked, but he was pretty sure he already knew the answers.  
  
"All Outstandings," she said. "Except for... Well, except for..."  
  
"Except for what?"  
  
"Except for in Care of Magical Creatures."  
  
Harry gasped. "But Hermione, how on earth...?"  
  
"I was distracted!" Hermione cried. "I don't know where I went wrong. I've been replaying the Practical exam over and over in my mind and I..."  
  
"But you did pass it, didn't you?"  
  
"Of course," she said. "I got an E, but still..."  
  
"Do you know how Ron did?" Harry interrupted.  
  
"Yes, I do." There was silence on the other end of the phone.  
  
"How did he do?"  
  
"He did... Well, he did better than Fred and George."  
  
Somehow, Harry did not find that very reassuring. There was commotion in the background, and he could have sworn he heard Ron's voice say, "Let me tell him!"  
  
"Hermione, is Ron there? What's he doing at your house?"  
  
"Actually, I'm at the Burrow. Ouch! Ron!" Hermione was apparently struggling. He heard Ron curse.  
  
"What are you at the Burrow for?" Harry questioned, not bothering to hide his jealousy. He remembered last summer, when both Ron and Hermione had spent most of the summer holiday at the Grimmauld Place, while he was suffering alone at the Dursleys. He nearly had an ulcer from worrying so much.  
  
"That's what we're calling about."  
  
"Did something happen?" Harry demanded, immediately feeling guilty for his tone. "Is something wrong?"  
  
"No, we were just wondering if you wanted to spend the rest of the summer with us."  
  
"HERMIONE! GIVE ME THE FELLYTONE!" Ron demanded.  
  
Harry heard Hermione cry out as Ron's voice came through clearly on the other end of the phone.  
  
"Harry, you're not going to believe this. I got an E in Potions!" he said angrily. "I got an E and now I can't take Snape's stupid N.E.W.T. class and I'll never be an Auror!"  
  
Harry's heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. Ron had told him in a letter a few days ago that both he and Hermione had decided that they would be taking all the proper N.E.W.T. classes to become an Auror. He had been delighted at first, but the doubt that all three of them would make the grades had been eating away at him. He heard struggling on the other end of the phone and Hermione was speaking to him again. "It's not over yet, Harry!" Hermione cried. "We're going to contest it. Mr. Weasley has just sent an owl to that old bat Marchbanks at the Ministry. And we still haven't talked to Snape about it yet."  
  
"Talk to Snape?" Harry asked.  
  
Ron was back on the phone. "Yeah, Hermione's got this crazy idea that he may change his O.W.L. standard for the class, but I hardly think he'd give me special attention."  
  
Harry felt a glimmer of hope somewhere. He felt a closer connection to Snape, though he didn't want to, ever since he'd seen a memory in his pensive. Perhaps he could talk to Snape. Maybe he could offer to help tutor Ron - but he was no better at Potions than Ron, especially when he was working in a classroom under Snape's nose.  
  
Harry sighed. "I'm sure we can fix this." But he didn't quite believe it himself.  
  
"That's not why we're calling. Mum and dad had a great idea."  
  
"What is it?" Harry asked impatiently. His aunt and uncle were both hunched over his letter on the table, and Uncle Vernon was touching it carefully with his fingertips as though it were going to bite him.  
  
"Well, we thought it was about time that you came and stayed at the Burrow. Are you ready to leave the Dursleys?"  
  
Harry glanced up at his aunt and uncle who were still studying his O.W.L. letter. "Definitely. I'm ready."  
  
"And the best part is that everybody's at the Burrow right now," Ron added.  
  
"Well, not everybody," Hermione scoffed in the background.  
  
"What do you mean, not everybody?" Harry asked.  
  
"Percy," Hermione answered, her voice angry. "He's not here." There was another struggle, and Harry heard Hermione say, "The cord's tangled in my hair, Ron!"  
  
"Sorry, 'Mione. Mum and dad want him to come back," Ron said, "but Fred and George were against it. They said that they can't trust him and he needs to suffer a little before he comes home."  
  
Harry hadn't thought much of Percy after he'd written a nasty letter telling Ron to ditch him as a friend. But now the Ministry understood that Voldemort was back and they saw some of the errors of their ways. He still wasn't sure if he was ready to forgive Percy. Harry didn't know if he could ever trust him again.  
  
Ron sighed into the phone. "Well, Percy's always been a mindless git. He's practically living at the office, beckoning to Fudge's every need. I can't believe that dad actually has lunch with that traitor everyday."  
  
"But he's apologised a thousand times!" Hermione cried. "I mean, he's Percy, Ron. He's your brother!"  
  
"Yeah, well you didn't get a nasty note telling you that your best friend was an insane attention-seeker and that you should sever all ties with him."  
  
"We all make mistakes, Ron," Hermione said.  
  
"Anyway, dad talked to some people in the Ministry and they're going to let us borrow a car to come and pick you up the day after tomorrow - if that's okay with your aunt and uncle," he added quickly. Harry gazed up at the two of them. They were still staring at the parchment, and Aunt Petunia was mouthing the words Defence Against the Dark Arts with wide eyes.  
  
"I think they'll be ready to be rid of me." And at those words, Uncle Vernon looked up gave Harry a nod of approval, not that Harry needed it. He would never stay behind anyway.  
  
"Wicked," Ron replied. "Dad's going to show me how to drive a Muggle car!"  
"That's great," Harry replied. There was a pang of jealousy inside of him. He wished that Sirius could have been around to show him how to drive. Even Uncle Vernon had shown Dudley. Who would teach him?  
  
And then he scolded himself for thinking of such stupid things. There were a lot of more important lessons for him to learn than how to drive some idiotic Muggle invention. Harry guessed that most wizards didn't even know how to drive. They could ride their broomsticks or use Floo Powder or Portkeys. If they needed to travel disguised as a Muggle, there was always the Underground or a cab. Driving an automobile was clearly not a vital skill he needed in his studies. But it didn't make him want to learn it any less.  
  
"Are you still there, Harry?" Hermione questioned. It was her turn on the phone again. "Listen, we've got to go; these Muggle telephone lines are only secure for so long. We'll be seeing you the day after tomorrow then, all right?"  
  
"Right," Harry replied firmly. "Bye, Hermione."  
  
"Bye Harry!" Both she and Ron cried into the phone. It wasn't until he heard a click that he pressed the "off" button on the cordless and put it down on the dining room table.  
  
"What was that about?" Uncle Vernon demanded. "That call was far too long. We may have to make you pay for it in your chores."  
  
Harry shrugged indifferently. "Ron and Mr. Weasley are coming to pick me up at noon on Wednesday," he announced.  
"Good," Uncle Vernon said. Then he seemed to reconsider, eyeing the fireplace. "Er, how were they planning to arrive?"  
  
"They've borrowed a car," Harry answered.  
  
Uncle Vernon looked disgusted. "Now what was this? And why was it addressed to us?" he questioned, holding the letter in his hand and gesturing to Aunt Petunia.  
  
"It's my O.W.L.s. My Ordinary Wizarding Levels." When the two of them still looked confused, he tried again. "My grades. I guess they were addressed to you so that the Ministry could make sure that the students are not hiding them from their par - their guardians."  
  
Uncle Vernon seemed to accept this. It must have made sense to him, which probably only perplexed him. Nothing about the wizarding world had ever made sense to the Dursleys.  
  
"I... I think I'll just head upstairs now," Harry said quietly. "To bed."  
  
"You do that," Uncle Vernon barked. "And I want that garden replanted before you leave on Wednesday!"  
  
"Yes" Harry replied automatically. Aunt Petunia looked down at the table, almost as if to suggest that Harry finishes his dinner. However, before she could say anything, he turned on his heel and trudged upstairs. If there was anything he wasn't feeling right now, it was hungry.  
  
He was falling through a sea of darkness. He tried to cry out but he couldn't hear himself. Everything was pitch black and he couldn't see more than a few inches in front of himself.  
He'd lost track of how much time he'd been falling for. He couldn't remember what he'd fallen into. He just knew there wasn't a way out.  
With a thud he hit the ground. It took all of his strength to push himself up into a sitting position. He looked around blankly, still not knowing where he was.  
It seemed to be a dirt road, leading to the edge of something that strongly resembled a cliff. Instead of rocks lining the path, like they sometimes did, there were daggers with green handles and blood streaks on them. They made him shiver.  
Somehow he managed to stand. He forced himself to walk onward but something blocked his way.  
There was a flash of white light that filled his vision. He threw an arm over his face to protect his eyes from the blinding light. After a few moments it dimmed and he removed the arm. Three ghosts of people floated before him. Each had its own shimmering gold halo. He recognised them instantly.  
James Potter, Lily Potter, and Sirius Black floated in mid-air before him.  
He screamed once before he was brought back to consciousness.  
  
The next day moved rather quickly for Harry. He'd spent most of the night before packing up his things in eager anticipation of returning to the Burrow. If there had been one place that had ever felt like home to him - besides Hogwarts - it would have to be the Burrow. And best of all, there were no memories of Sirius there.  
Harry had spent most of the morning working in Aunt Petunia's garden, weeding out the dandelions and planting seedlings in their place.  
  
Uncle Vernon had taken the day off work rather than leave Aunt Petunia alone to meet Ron and Mr. Weasley. Dudley, however, was not hanging around. Bad things tended to happen to him whenever the Weasleys were involved in picking Harry up.  
  
Dudley had not forgotten about the events of previous summers, one of them had left him with a tail, the other with an enormous tongue, then there were the dementors. There was one time when they had both arrived home early in the wee hours of the morning that Dudley looked as though he wanted to question Harry about the dementors. He was probably still convinced that it was something Harry had done to him. However, he had reconsidered and pushed Harry over into the driveway so hard he'd skinned his arm on the cement.  
  
Uncle Vernon was pacing the living room, his gaze never wavering from the picture window. The driveway was empty. Every time a car drove by and it wasn't the Weasleys, Aunt Petunia would make a clicking noise in the back of her throat and check the grandfather clock near the doorway.  
  
Though Harry now knew why he had to return to the Dursleys every summer, he didn't find it any more comforting. It was his family blood, used for protection. Some sort of ancient magic that it seemed Voldemort didn't even understand. He wanted to ask his aunt about it so bad that the question was burning on the tip of his tongue every afternoon they spent alone together.  
  
But he didn't care anymore. His time at the Dursleys was over. And Harry knew that if he could be happy anywhere, it would be at the Burrow.  
  
A sleek black car pulled into the driveway. Uncle Vernon looked quite surprised as Mr. Weasley stepped out of the car. "Well, well, it looks like they're getting a little better at this." Mr. Weasley was wearing a very fashionable grey pinstripe suit with a silk purple tie. Ron was wearing a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt as he followed his father to the front door.  
  
"Oh! I've heard of these!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed. "They're called doorbells - an excellent alarm system for announcing visitors!" Harry quickly ran to the entrance just as he heard Mr. Weasley whisper to Ron, "Am I supposed to push this button once, or a few times to make sure they hear it?"  
  
Harry opened the door. "Hello, Harry!" Mr. Weasley greeted. "Ready to go, then?"  
"Just need my trunk and Hedwig," Harry replied.  
  
"I'll help," Ron said and the two of them retreated to the hallway, where Harry had his things packed.  
  
Mr. Weasley cleared his throat as Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia approached him carefully. "How do you do, Dursley?"  
  
Uncle Vernon looked as though he had just smelled something rancid. "Fine."  
Mr. Weasley cleared his throat again in the awkward silence. "Lovely weather today, isn't it?"  
  
Uncle Vernon didn't say anything. Harry quickly walked between them with his trunk and Ron followed behind him with Hedwig and her cage. "Er... We'd better get going."  
  
"Righto, Harry." Mr. Weasley said. "Goodbye." He glared at Harry's aunt and uncle. Harry feared for a moment that there was going to be another episode like when Mr. Weasley picked him up for the Quidditch World Cup, and Mr. Weasley had demanded that they say goodbye to Harry. But this time, he didn't say anything.  
  
'Bye then.' Said his uncle & closed the door.  
  
"Now, I may regret doing this, but Ron, I believe it is your turn to drive." Mr Weasley sighed and took the car keys out of his back pocket. A giant grin broke out on to Ron's face. "Harry, I suggest you get in the backseat and fasten your seat belt. Tight," he added.  
  
"You have nothing to worry about," Ron announced. "I've driven before. It's not a big deal."  
  
"This is a bit different than flying an Anglia ," Mr. Weasley said. "There's no traffic in the skies. There are, however, a lot of pedestrians and other cars on the road."  
  
"Pedestrians?"  
  
"Muggles," Mr. Weasley replied. "You know, people crossing the street."  
  
"Right," Ron said.  
  
"Are we driving all the way to the Burrow?" Harry questioned. Ottery St. Catchpole was quite a ways away from Privet Drive.  
  
"No, just to London," Mr. Weasley replied, "if we don't crash first."  
  
The three of them made it to London without incident. Ron was feeling very smug with himself by the end of the drive. Mr. Weasley asked Harry if he'd like to give it a try, but Harry refused. It didn't feel right. He tried to remind himself of how he'd felt when Dudley was out riding around with his friends. A car was nothing compared to flying on his Firebolt.  
  
From the ministry, they travelled by Floo Powder to the Burrow. Harry's trunk unbalanced him and he nearly fell out of the fireplace, but he had managed to collect himself and moved out of the way before Ron arrived with Hedwig.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione cried, rushing over to him and giving him a hug. "How was your summer?"  
  
"All right," Harry said honestly. "How was yours?"  
  
"Amazing," Hermione replied. "My parents took me to New York for a week. It was one of the most beautiful cities I've ever seen!"  
  
"Who knew dentists were so well-travelled?" Ron laughed, wiping some soot off his shoulders.  
  
"Welcome back, Harry!" Mrs. Weasley greeted as she hustled into the room. Without warning, she threw her arms around Harry in a fierce hug. Harry was thrown off-balance. Mrs. Weasley had always treated him like one of her own. When Mr. Weasley had been in St. Mungo's last year, she pulled him into the room with the "family only" restriction. He felt awkward about it then, and he still wasn't quite sure about how he felt as a surrogate member of the already full Weasley family.  
  
"Now, Molly, don't crowd him," Mr. Weasley scolded.  
  
"Sorry, dear. It's just so good to see you."  
  
"Er, thanks," Harry replied. An unsettling silence filled the air. Everyone was staring at him again. Had he really changed that much? He was just about to make an excuse to leave the room - anything to get so many pairs of eyes off of him - when the enchanted grandfather clock in the corner of the room caught his eye.  
  
The clock was a great magical relic. It didn't tell the time, but had nine hands for each member of the Weasley family. There were no numbers, but it had things like "home," "school," "work," and "mortal peril" where the numbers would be. Harry realised that every hand but Percy's was pointing at "home," which was an odd coincidence. Why were Bill and Charlie home? But what was even more startling was that he now counted ten hands on the clock. He had his own hand and it was also pointing at "home."  
  
Harry was shocked. Home? Was the Burrow really his home? The only place he'd ever felt really at home was at Hogwarts. But the Burrow was Ron's home; it wasn't his. And it wasn't that the Weasleys weren't great to him, it was just that he would never really quite fit in the family full of redheads.  
  
"About the clock, dear..." Mrs. Weasley said. "I hope you don't mind."  
Harry smiled. "No, not at all." He was actually feeling flattered that they cared enough.  
  
"Yeah, Harry's in mortal peril so often anyway," Ginny said, joining them in the living room. Harry didn't look at her. He felt ashamed. He didn't want anyone fussing over him.  
  
"Well, I'm afraid that you lot are never far behind him," Mrs. Weasley said sadly. Harry remembered when she was trying to battle a boggart last year at Grimmauld Place, and each time she tried to get rid of it, she would see another one of her children dead.  
  
The sad truth was that Harry always did put his friends in danger, and that he always felt the need to rescue them, whether it was in their best interest or not. And a lot of his friends happened to be members of the Weasley family.  
  
Hermione cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Did you bring your N.E.W.T. form?"  
  
"My what?"  
  
"That form that you got with your O.W.L. letter. We need to sign up for our classes and send the letters back before the end of the week."  
  
"Hermione, I'm sure Harry doesn't want to do that right now," Ron said.  
  
"Actually, I did have a few things I wanted to ask you about this year," Harry said.  
  
There had been questions brewing in his mind ever since he got his O.W.L. results.  
  
"That's a good idea," Mrs. Weasley said. "Dinner will be ready in a flash. Why don't all of you sit down at the kitchen table and get to work on your letters? Fred and George will take your trunk up to Ron's room and I'll go let Hedwig out. Ginny, can you help set the table?"  
  
"Hurrah! Put the littlest Weasley to work!" George whooped.  
  
"Hurrah!" Seconded Fred  
  
Ginny let out a groan as she went into the garden and took a seat at the big oak table. Harry saw that outside, Bill and Charlie, were setting up a large table for dinner. Harry remembered his first time at the Burrow, the summer before his second year, when the entire Weasley family had been together for one meal. It had been one of the most comfortable moments of his life.  
  
Ron retrieved his letter from a nearby countertop and plopped into a chair beside Harry. "Why is everybody here?" Harry asked.  
  
"What do you mean?" Ron said, flipping over his results.  
  
"I mean, why are Bill and Charlie home? Does it have something to do with the Order?"  
  
Ron grinned. "No. It's just because it's summer holiday. That's all."  
  
Hermione scoffed. "Doesn't it feel rather weird without Percy?"  
  
"I'd say it feels very relaxed without that traitor," George spat, apparating into the chair next to her. He looked very slick in a dragon hide coat. He seemed to be growing his hair like Bill's, as it was rather long compared to Fred's.  
  
"He's not a traitor. Everybody makes mistakes."  
  
"Don't stick up for him, Hermione," Ron said.  
  
"Well somebody ought to!" she cried. "He can't speak for himself when he's not even welcome in his own home."  
  
"Oh he's welcome," George said. "He's welcome to come home and explain himself to me."  
  
"And me," Fred added as he entered the kitchen. "I'm glad they demoted him at the Ministry"  
  
"Really!" exclaimed Harry  
  
"Yeah. After not realising Crouch was under the control of He- who-must-not be-named, and then being Fudge's sidekick, they decided he wasn't much good, and shunted him into the International Wizarding Standards department" said George  
  
"Well that's not too bad, is it?"  
  
"To do filing" smirked Fred "Oh how the mighty have fallen!"  
  
"Why don't you two go outside and help Ginny with the table settings?" Mrs. Weasley said. It was more a command than a request, and, quite reluctantly, the twins headed outside into the backyard.  
  
"I'm sorry, Harry," Mrs. Weasley apologised. "Things are a bit... fierce around here lately." And with a sad sigh, she followed the twins outside.  
  
"If anybody should be apologising, it's Percy," Ron muttered. "The way he treated mum and dad... It still gets me riled up." There was a hint of heat in his cheeks as he slammed his fist on the table. Hermione made a clicking sound of disapproval in the back of her throat, but said nothing.  
  
"What kind of questions did you have about the letter, Harry?" asked Hermione, changing the subject.  
  
Harry thought back to two nights before, when he had re-read his O.W.L. results in his bedroom. "The form is easy enough to fill out," he said, "but I don't understand. Why do we only sign up for five classes? Won't we have loads of free time?"  
  
"We have loads of free time because we have loads of homework," Hermione answered. "Twice the homework, twice as difficult. If you thought last year was bad, sixth year is even worse."  
  
"Some people - like Fred and George - only take four classes," Ron said.  
  
"But if we're going to be Aurors," Hermione said quietly, "we're going to need at least five N.E.W.T.s, which means we need five classes. I thought about taking six, but I don't want to stretch myself too thin."  
  
"Oh, what's the point?" Ron said helplessly. "I'm not even going to get to take Snape's stupid Potions class. Maybe it's a sign I should give up."  
  
"Do you really want to be an Auror, Ron?" Hermione demanded. "I mean, do you really want to, or are you just saying that because Harry wants to?"  
  
Ron frowned. "What kind of question is that? Of course I want to be an Auror!"  
  
"Then stop whining!" Hermione cried. "This will work out, I know it will. But in the meantime, you should figure out what classes you're going to take."  
  
"Yeah, 'cause I'm going to take the same ones as you," Harry muttered. "Except potions, of course." It was hard to picture being in Potions without Ron. Snape would have to take him into the N.E.W.T. class. He had to.  
  
"Well, McGonagall told me that students who aspired to be future Aurors needed at least five classes, and four of them had to be Potions, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Charms." Hermione produced a quill from somewhere and began checking off the classes on her form. "Oh dear, I guess this comes down to choosing between taking Ancient Runes and Arithmacy."  
  
"I'm not taking either of those," Ron said quickly. "I was thinking more along the lines of Care of Magical Creatures or something."  
  
"All three of you should take Muggle Studies," Mr. Weasley said, entering the room, leading some chairs outside with his wand. "Especially this year." Harry watched as the chairs danced out the door and into place at the huge table, which Mrs. Weasley was now filling with food.  
  
"Hey, that's a great idea!" Ron said. "Muggle Studies is an easy class - it's an easy good grade."  
  
"But can we take Muggle Studies? We've never had that class before," Harry said, frowning.  
  
"Sure we can." Ron pointed at the form. "It says the only requirement is an O.W.L. We passed a lot of O.W.L.s. We definitely qualify. And besides, you've lived as a Muggle with the Dursleys - you'll have no problem."  
  
Harry considered it. Any class where a grade was easy sounded too good to be true. But maybe Ron was right. He'd lived as a Muggle for the first eleven years of his life; learning about it all over again wouldn't be that hard. "I'm in," Harry said.  
  
"Excellent. What do you say, 'Mione?" Ron asked.  
  
"No way," she replied. "Both my parents are Muggles. I wouldn't learn a thing."  
  
"That's the beauty of it!" Ron said. "Just think: an exam you don't have to study for."  
  
"No thanks. I think I'll stick to a real education, thank you very much."  
  
Harry looked at his own form and ticked the classes he wanted to take. It would be odd, not having Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid, or sleeping through a lesson on the History of Magic with the ghostly Professor Binns. "Do you think Hagrid will mind we're not taking his class?" Harry asked.  
  
Ron shook his head. "It's only a year off. Wait 'til seventh."  
  
The first thing Harry noticed about the Weasley dining table was that it had an extra place setting. He thought that maybe it was for Percy, but when the family actually gathered around the meal outside, he was glad to see someone else occupied it. Fleur Delacour, the gorgeous fair-haired beauty and graduate of Beauxbatons Academy, took the extra seat at the table. She was flashing a magnificent engagement ring on her left hand. The diamond was large and cut into the shape of a dragon.  
Bill was sitting next to her, a smile constantly plastered on his face.  
  
"She didn't work on her 'Eeenglish' much," Ron whispered to Harry, "but she sure did learn how to work one over on Bill."  
  
Harry thought for sure that the diamond on Fleur's finger brought out the veela in her, because as he ate, he couldn't seem to take his eyes off her. She was absolutely stunning. He noticed that she had the same effect on the twins, and that both Ginny and Hermione didn't pay much attention when she spoke. They would glare at her when she wasn't looking, though.  
  
Harry told Mrs. Weasley that the meal was excellent once everyone had finished eating.  
  
The night sky was clear and warm, bringing with it the usual aromas of dinners being eaten outdoors and the sound of night birds calling for silence. All was calm and peaceful.  
  
The family sat around listening to stories of Bill and Charlie's adventures. Bill worked for the wizarding bank, Gringotts, and Charlie had a new position in Africa, but still working with dragons. Both jobs seemed very exciting to Harry, but both of their tales had convinced him that he still wanted to be an Auror. Bill admitted that there was a lot of paperwork with his job and Charlie said that even he spent most of his time recovering from dragon wounds.  
  
'Did you hear about Fudge?' asked Ron.  
  
'No, why what happened to him? replied Harry.  
  
'Made some big speech about putting the past behind us, meaning his cover up over He-who-must-not-be-named, and to focus on the challenges ahead. Trouble was, they took a different interpretation to him, and kicked him out' explained Ron.  
  
'Mind you, could have seen it a mile off' interrupted Fred.  
  
'Yeah, true. Thing is, he was found floating face down in the Thames a few days later' added George.  
  
Harry remembered an article on the muggle news he had seen about the police finding a body in the Thames, but had taken no more notice.  
  
'Does anyone know how he died? I mean was it more than drowning? '  
  
'Well the muggles say he did drown, but the rumours are that it was He-who-must-not-be-named. Some people are saying that he had the Dark Mark on his arm'  
  
'Yeah; makes sense' said Harry, an expression of sudden understanding appearing on his face. 'On the night Voldemort was reborn, he said there was a death eater that had tried to leave him. Fudge went really odd refusing to believe that he had returned."  
  
"That's probably why Fudge had that dementor give Barty Crouch the kiss; to keep him quiet before he told that Fudge was one of them" said Ron  
  
"So who's running the Ministry of Magic now?' asked Harry  
  
'It's a consortium of the heads of each department; Dad's in it, along with Amos Digggery and a few others. Makes it harder for He-who-must-not-be-named to control anyone senior.' replied Fred.  
  
"What about Dumbledore?"  
  
"He's an advisor. Said he wouldn't do it unless they repealed some of the wizarding laws that Umbridge introduced, which is good news for Lupin"  
  
"And house elves" interrupted Hermione  
  
Harry, Ron, Fred and George all groaned and rolled their eyes to the ceiling in unison.  
  
Harry didn't sleep well that night. His insides were churning from the amazing dinner. He guessed he must have eaten too much, but whatever it was, he didn't fall into a heavy sleep until sometime after the first rays of light streamed through the windows in Ron's bedroom.  
  
When he finally woke up for good, Ron's light snores were gone and Harry was in his bedroom alone. He glanced at his watch. It was already ten-thirty. Embarrassed about sleeping in, he quickly got dressed. He attempted to do something with his hair to make it lie flat, but it was a hopeless case. He slipped his glasses on and thought. This is as good as its going to get.  
  
He caught his reflection in Ron's full-length mirror. He couldn't help but notice how much he looked like his father, except for her startling green eyes and the scar on his forehead, he looked exactly like James did when he was fifteen.  
  
No wonder Snape hates me so much, Harry thought bitterly.  
  
Without taking any more time to ponder his appearance, he quietly slipped out of Ron's bedroom and into the Burrow's narrow stairwell. It was eerily quiet in the house. There was no howling from the ghoul in the attic or explosions from Fred and George's bedroom. He felt a shiver down his spine. Maybe something terrible had happened?  
  
But as Harry climbed further and further down the stairs, he suddenly came to the realisation that today was his sixteenth birthday. Before he hit the bottom landing he broke into a jog. When he reached the kitchen, he was greeted by glowing faces and the delicious smell of pancakes and pies.  
  
"Surprise!"  
  
Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Lupin were gathered around the kitchen table. There was a stack of presents next to an empty chair at the head of the table.  
"Happy birthday, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said, getting up from her seat and hugging him tightly.  
  
"Thanks," Harry replied automatically. "What's all this for?"  
  
"Why, it's the beginning of your all-day birthday party!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "We all thought it was about time that you celebrated your birthday properly, and not alone with your wretched aunt and uncle." She hurried over to the stove and picked up a kettle. "  
  
"Come and have a seat," Lupin said, patting the empty chair next to him. He was looking a little better than the few days before. Harry wondered, briefly, why he was here and then he realised that everyone just assumed that Lupin was to take Sirius's place in his life. Harry felt a rush of anger inside of him, but quickly let it go. The Weasleys had gone to all the trouble of throwing him a party; he wasn't about to let his temper ruin it.  
  
Harry sat down in the vacant seat. "Where is everybody else?"  
  
"Arthur and Charlie went off to the Ministry - I dare say that they'll be having a chat with Percy." Mrs. Weasley bit her lower lip as she filled Harry's mug with tea. "Fred and George have gone to their shop in Diagon Alley," she said with a bit of resentment in her voice. Harry wondered, feeling guilty, if she new yet about where the funds had come from for the twins' joke shop, but she didn't give a second glance to Harry as she filled Remus's cup. "And Bill and Fleur have gone off sightseeing."  
  
"I doubt they'll be seeing much other than each other," Ron said. Ginny stifled a laugh. Ron shook his head and smiled. Much as he was convinced she'd been found in a zoo, Ginny was definitely a Weasley  
  
"They were here earlier, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, "but I'm afraid you just slept in too late. How did you sleep, by the way? Ron said that you'd been tossing and turning until morning."  
  
"Er, well, I... I slept all right," Harry lied. He didn't know what to say. He suddenly felt a hand on his arm and looked up. Professor Lupin was staring at his scar, concerned. "Any... funny dreams lately?" he questioned.  
  
Again, Harry felt ashamed. His stupid scar. He hated the lines of worry all over Lupin's face. "No, Prof - Remus. I didn't have any dreams about him. I guess I just ate too much, that's all."  
  
"Oh dear," Mrs. Weasley said. "Well, I hope you're hungry now. We've got poached eggs and pancakes and a few mince pies." She gestured to the table full of food.  
  
"Don't worry mum, I'm starved," Ron announced. "I'll eat Harry's portion."  
  
Not wanting to be rude, and actually feeling emptiness in the pit of his stomach, he raised his plate and helped himself to some pancakes. "No way, Ron. I think I'll be able to eat my own portion, thank you very much."  
  
Mrs. Weasley looked pleased as everyone dug into breakfast. Harry found that he was quite hungry, and it did turn out to be a very nice birthday breakfast. Remus told some stories about when he went into a Muggle pet store and saw some of the vile treats they had for dogs. "Imagine - bones that claim to whiten a mutt's teeth." Mrs. Weasley even talked about how everyone at the ministry loved Fred and George's new joke shop. Harry was glad to see she was taking their business venture lightly.  
  
"Are we going to get to visit the joke shop before the term starts?" Harry asked eagerly.  
  
"I'm afraid not," Mrs. Weasley answered. "George and Fred have run into some problems. They may not be open for a while."  
  
"What problems?"  
  
"Stupid Zonko's," Ron replied. "They think that Fred and George stole their idea for the fake wands. They were working on a prototype that turned into a rooster while Fred and George's turned into hens." He shook his head in disbelief. "Now they're being investigated by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement until further notice."  
  
"They've been spending day and night cleaning up the store to be perfect for the inspection next month," Ginny said.  
  
"But maybe at Christmas time, dear," Mrs. Weasley suggested.  
  
Harry couldn't help but smile. So he wouldn't have to spend another lonely Christmas at Hogwarts, either. He would have a proper Christmas celebration too.  
  
After another cup of tea, Harry opened his birthday gifts. He received a giant bag of Bertie Blotts Every Flavour Beans from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and an "I Love New York" t-shirt from Hermione. "It's what all the tourist Muggles in America were wearing," she added excitedly.  
  
Ginny gave him a patch in the shape of the Gryffindor Lion to put on his Quidditch bag. Ron got him some of Fred and George's Skiving Snackboxes. He got a few of all four flavours: Fever Fudge, Fainting Fancies, Puking Pastilles, and Nosebleed Nougat.  
  
"For one of those days when McGonagall's voice is just too annoying to handle," Ron whispered, avoiding looks of annoyance from his mother. The twins themselves got him a sweatshirt supporting the Puddlemere United Quidditch team, who their old captain, Oliver Wood, played for.  
  
There were also a few gifts from owls that had arrived earlier that morning. Dobby the house-elf had given him a scarf with Gryffindor colours. Apparently he was really improving on his knitting skills. Hagrid had given him a case of Honeydukes chocolate, with an odd letter on the inside.  
  
"What's it say?" Ron asked, watching Harry with anticipation.  
  
"It says that the other half of my gift is waiting for me at Hogwarts. She's waiting for me at Hogwarts." Confused, Harry read the letter again.  
  
"She?" Hermione questioned. "Oh no, you don't think it's some kind of animal, do you?"  
  
Ron shrugged. "What else could it be? I bet he got you your very own blast-ended skrewt." They all laughed at the joke, however, Harry felt a little uneasy about the idea of Hagrid giving him a pet. But the best gift was from Remus. He got Harry a small, white, glowing orb that fit into the palm of his hand. It reminded Harry of a miniature crystal ball. "What's this?"  
  
"Hold it up to your eye," Remus said.  
  
Harry hesitated for a moment, and then lifted the small white orb to his right eye. His glasses got in the way, so he quickly took them off and used his good eye to peer inside the globe, as though looking through a telescope. At first, he didn't see anything except bright light, but then a light grey circle appeared inside of the globe.  
  
"It's a Moon Guide. It tells you when the full moon is going to be. The darker the circle gets, the closer to the full moon," Remus explained. "And when it gets black, well... that's the night."  
  
Harry grinned. "Wicked. Thanks, Remus." He leaned over and gave Remus a hug. And somehow, it felt natural.  
  
In odd ways, Remus did remind Harry of Sirius. Both were built about the same, though Remus was thinner around the full moon. Remus had long hair, but it was curly at the ends. Sirius's hair had been straight and jet-black. Both of them had dark eyes. But the most familiar thing about Remus was that when he hugged Harry, it felt a lot like he was hugging Sirius. And he found comfort in this, though it did make a lump swell in the back of his throat.  
  
"Well, now that all the gifts have been opened," Mrs. Weasley said, "why don't you all go outside and find something to do while I clean this place up."  
  
"I'll help," Hermione offered, but Mrs. Weasley held up a hand to silence her.  
  
"No, dear, it'll only take me a minute. Go on now, all of you. The summer holiday won't last forever." And with a playful shove, Ginny and Hermione left the kitchen.  
  
Two load cracks announced the arrival of Fred & George.  
  
"Happy birthday Harry, hope you liked our present" Fred face cracked into an evil grin.  
  
"Hey, Harry, you should get your broom," Ron suggested. "We could work on some Quidditch."  
  
"Didn't you catch the snitch in five minutes once?" Ginny asked.  
"Yup. It was amazing. Fastest game I've ever played," said George.  
"And there were all those times where he nearly got himself killed."  
"And Dobby's rouge bludger"  
"And how he got past the dragon."  
"Okay! Enough of Harry Potter's grand Quidditch tales! Let's get playing!" Ron yelled.  
"Ahh. Is Ickle Ronniekins jealous?" Bill sneered.  
"Oh shut up Everyone roared with laughter. Ron turned bright red. They all knew Ron had always been semi-jealous of Harry. It was a given fact.  
"Sounds great," Harry replied. "I'll run up to my room and get it."  
He turned and began to sprint up the stairway to Ron's room.  
"At least I don't have a crush on him!" said Ron under his breath once Harry was out of earshot.  
"Oh and now you're accusing me for no reason? I do NOT have a crush on Harry Potter!" Ginny hissed.  
"Yeah, but you did Ginevra" smirked Fred.  
  
"Don't call me that" she screeched "It's Ginny!"  
  
Harry had just entered Ron's room, when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to find Remus following him.  
  
"About that Moon Guide, Harry," he said, "there's something else it does. Though I didn't know if it would be wise for everybody to know about it." He glanced down the stairs. "It's been bewitched to do something else as well. Can I see it?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
Harry pulled the orb out of his pocket, where he had put it for safekeeping. Remus took it from him, produced his wand from his pocket, and said quietly,  
  
"I solemnly swear I only want to watch."  
  
The orb glowed brighter for a moment, and then he handed it back to Harry. The words he spoke reminded Harry of a similar item that Lupin had been associated with: the Marauder's Map.  
  
"Now look inside."  
  
Harry slipped his glasses off again and peered inside the orb. He gasped. Now he could see Remus and himself, standing on the second floor landing of the Weasley's staircase.  
  
"Wow," Harry breathed. "This is amazing. How - how does it work?"  
  
Remus slipped his hand along the collar of his shirt and pulled out a chain. There was an even smaller orb attached to it. "It's sort of a... surveillance item. When I wear this, you can see me. Anytime you're wondering what I'm up to, you can use this."  
  
Harry was taken aback. Remus must really trust him to give him such a gift. "Remus, are you sure I should have this?"  
  
Lupin smiled and ignored his question. He took the orb back from Harry.  
  
"Now, to turn it off, all you need to say is, 'I have seen all there is to be seen.'"  
  
Remus flicked his wand again, and the orb seemed to dim. He handed it back to Harry with a wink.  
  
"It's another gift from Mooney, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Progs."  
  
Harry grinned. "Thank you so much, Remus. But isn't this sort of, well, an invasion of privacy?"  
  
"If I'm doing something I don't want you to see, I'll be sure to take the chain off," Remus laughed. "Now, I don't think you should go around telling people what I gave you, but I trust Ron and Hermione. As for young Ginny..."  
  
"Don't worry, Remus," Harry said "This gift is safe with me."  
  
"Good. I knew I could count on you. Now how about that game of Quidditch?"  
  
It felt good to be back on his Firebolt. He had forgotten exactly how sharply it turned with the slightest effort, and it's exceptional acceleration. Harry and Ron practised their Quidditch moves so intensely that even Oliver Wood would have been proud. It was only at lunchtime when Mrs. Weasley stopped them that they had time to catch their breath.  
  
Everyone returned home shortly after lunch. Bill, Fleur, Charlie, and Ginny joined Harry and Ron in the air. When the twins came back from Diagon Alley, they got out their clubs, and it wasn't long before there was a Quidditch match in the Weasley's backyard. Even Remus and Mr. Weasley found some old Shooting Star brooms and took to the skies. Mrs. Weasley was refereeing, but Hermione sat in a grassy patch near the makeshift hoops, reading a copy of The Daily Prophet.  
  
"C'mon, Hermione!" Ron cried from his position as keeper, not too above her head. "I'm sure dad would give you a few minutes on his broom. Maybe we could even dig out another one from somewhere in the attic."  
  
"No thank you," she replied. "I think I'll just stay on the ground."  
  
"Oh, don't be such a spoil sport, Hermione," Ron scolded. "I've always wanted to see how good you'd be at Quidditch."  
  
"No thank you," Hermione repeated.  
  
"Are you scared?" Ron taunted. "Afraid that I might be better at something than you are?"  
  
"No," Hermione said. "In fact, I know that there are things you're better at than I am."  
  
"Like what?" Ron questioned, genuinely curious, swooping down to Hermione's level.  
  
"Like making a fool of yourself," she said, pointing at Charlie as he hit the Quaffle through one of the hoops Ron was supposed to be guarding. He cursed, glaring at Hermione.  
  
"Hey, Ron!" Bill called from the other side of the field. "Stop faffing and start playing your position!"  
  
Red-faced and at a loss for words, Ron retreated to the safety of guarding the hoops. Harry, however, was way up in the air, keeping his eyes peeled for the golden snitch. Ginny was not far behind him. He wondered if she was planning on trying out for the Quidditch team again. She mentioned something last year about one of the vacant chaser spots.  
  
Harry couldn't wait to be back on the Gryffindor house team. This Quidditch game was not like one at Hogwarts, but he didn't care. It had been so long since he'd been on a broom that he couldn't think of a better way to spend his birthday.  
There was only one injury: George hit Bill square in the face with a Bludger when he was watching Fleur score a goal to pay him back for teasing Ron. After a few laughs from the game below, Harry finally spotted the Snitch glinting in the sunlight above the shed.  
  
In a flash, Harry took off and gained some speed as he chased after the snitch. He was vaguely aware of Ginny behind him, working her way up to his level. He thought, briefly, of letting her grab the snitch and take the win. But it was his birthday, and he knew that if he let her win, Ginny would be insulted.  
  
Harry was closing in on the snitch. Five yards. Three yards. Four feet. And in a matter of seconds, his fingers had closed around the wiggling snitch, and the game was over.  
Ron, Fred, Bill, and Remus cheered as Harry soared to the ground. They all patted him on the back as. Charlie tousled his hair a little and laughed. "Lucky catch, hey Potter?"  
  
Ginny came over to Harry and shook his hand. "I thought it was only right to let you catch it," she said, grinning. "It being your birthday and all."  
  
"Sure you did." Harry smiled.  
  
Things didn't feel too awkward now. In fact, he felt a lot better than he did the day before. Maybe it was because it was his birthday, or because he'd wasted an entire afternoon playing nothing but Quidditch, or perhaps because Remus was around. Either way, Harry didn't care. Maybe being an honorary Weasley wouldn't be as uncomfortable as he thought it would be. Maybe he did fit in a family somewhere.  
  
After another dinner spent dining outside, Mrs. Weasley brought out a homemade cake with Why Can't'ya Blow 'Em Out? Candles, an experimental product from the twins. As hard as he tried, Harry couldn't blow them out, and was actually quite winded from his endeavour. Ultimately, the candles lit the icing on fire and Mr. Weasley managed to save the cake, although it did taste a bit like charcoal. However, Harry enjoyed it nevertheless.  
  
To make up for the cake, Fred and George got out some of their Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-Bangs. The enchanted fireworks paraded through the yard. There was a set of long-tailed rockets that emitted brilliant pink sparks. Everyone sat around "oohing" and "ahhing" with delight. Then somebody brought out the Wizard's Wireless, a device like a Muggle radio, and turned it on so that the music filled the backyard.  
  
"So what have you been up to?" Harry asked Lupin, nonchalantly.  
  
"I visited with Hagrid for a time. He's got a handful of trouble in that forest, all right. He's such an affectionate old chap."  
  
Harry did not hide his smile. He had seen Hagrid's half-brother, Grawp, firsthand, and experienced some of the damage a sixteen-foot, substandard giant could do. "Madam Maxime has been with him for most of the summer. The two of them wanted to go back to the mountains again, to see what could be repaired with the other giants, but Dumbledore wouldn't let them." Lupin's eyes grew dark. "I'm afraid it's too late for them."  
  
"And after Hagrid's and collecting some potion from the most generous Severus Snape," Lupin paused to snort, "I went back to the Grimmauld Place. We only had a few days before Narcissa Malfoy would be using every sort of magic to find the House of Black, with help from Kreacher, of course. We had to clear the place out."  
Harry's stomach lurched. What he wouldn't give to strangle that house elf. But when his rage subsided, what Lupin was saying started to sink in. He was glad he would never have to return to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. The memory of Sirius was fresh there, in the House of Black. "Malfoy's mum?" Harry questioned. "I don't understand."  
  
"Well, with... with Sirius truly gone..."  
  
Harry heard a small gulping noise, and he was quite sure it had come from him.  
  
"It was only a matter of time before the house turns against the Order and reveals itself to the true owner, who would, indeed, be Narcissa Malfoy, Sirius's cousin. Of course, in all probability, it could also go to Bellatrix Lestrange, but she is on the run, and it would be quite foolish of her to attempt to use the house. We were hoping that it would somehow end up in Molly's care, but it appears the house has already made its decision..."  
  
Harry's fury was boiling inside of him. He felt he would explode. He wanted to throw a tantrum. He wanted to scream at Lupin to stops speaking of these people: Sirius, Kreacher, the Malfoys, or Bellatrix. He couldn't take another word. If he heard anymore, he thought that surely he would explode from the inside and his heart would crack.  
  
"Women," Charlie said, plopping into the vacant seat next to Harry. "Who needs 'em?"  
  
'What's up?' asked Harry.  
  
'Them two' he replied, looking at Bill & Fleur.  
"Exactly what I say, Charlie," Lupin agreed, sitting on Harry's other side. "Can't live with them, better off without them."  
  
Harry grinned. The two of them were reading his mind. He just couldn't believe that all the effort one needed to put into a romantic relationship was really worth the outcome. "So Bill and Fleur are really getting married, huh?"  
  
"Yeah, probably this time next year," Charlie replied, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed behind his head. "Marriage. The mere thought makes me want to run away. Lifelong bachelorhood sounds like a good thing to me."  
  
Lupin laughed. Harry had never really thought about being married before. He didn't even know if he'd live to be seventeen, let alone to get married.  
  
"It's a waste of a man's time," Remus growled. "You spend day and night thinking of them, being with them, and in the end, you end up alone and poor." Harry laughed, but he had the sneaking suspicion that Remus was speaking from experience.  
  
"Take it from us, Harry," Charlie said, "you don't need to be in love to be happy."  
  
Harry watched the couples dance. Bill was twirling Fleur with flair.  
  
"No, he's not in love," Charlie commented. "Look at him. He's totally whipped." 


	2. Chapter 2

August  
  
The euphoria of living at the burrow soon passed, and Harry soon slip back into his routine of spending hours staring at the ceiling. Mrs Weasley kept fussing over him, but Harry just found it irritating. Hermione was fretting; Ron was concerned but thought it was best to leave Harry to work things out for himself. At night Harry did not sleep. Voldemort and the ghosts visited to torment him.  
  
Remus visited him off and on, though Harry suspected it had as much to do with giving messages about the Order of the Phoenix to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley as it had to do with visiting him. He did enjoy the company, however.  
  
There was not much news about Voldemort. Harry got the impression that he was lying low again, waiting to spring his death eaters out of Azkaban now that the dementors had deserted the wizarding prison. There was one night when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, as well as Bill and Charlie, had gone out and Fleur was left at home to "baby-zit," as she put it. Harry was almost positive that there was a meeting of the Order. He wondered where the meeting was, or maybe even if he would be able to spy in on it with Remus's birthday gift. However, he didn't bother trying because he knew that Remus wouldn't be so careless as to leave it on during a meeting.  
  
But Sirius would have been, Harry thought with a sad smile.  
  
"Harry. Harry. Wake up" Hermione whispered gently. Harry opened his eyes. The curtains in Ron's room glowed bright yellow, and the air was warm and smelt pleasant.  
  
"I thought you were dead," she breathed. " You've been asleep for over twelve hours!"  
She pulled back a little and Harry moved over, allowing her to sit next to him.  
"What time is it?"  
She glanced at the watch on her wrist. "11:00"  
A worried look crossed Harry's face. "11:00? Voldemort and Sirius couldn't have kept me for that long."  
"Voldemort and Sirius? Harry, are you feeling all right?"  
Harry shook his head. "No. Just ignore it."  
  
"Are you sure you're okay?"  
  
Harry didn't respond. He just sat there, gazing out the window.  
"You know," he said finally, "I think I was destined to be alone and miserable. It kind of fits the Daily Prophet's description of me as a tragic hero. I was born to play the role..." Hermione took a minute to examine Harry. He was dangerously thin  
  
"Judging by how thin you are, it must be more of a difference than that."  
Harry laughed coldly. "I eat what I want to eat when I want to eat it. I'm just never hungry. This," he said, gesturing at his body, "is the result."  
"How can you NOT be hungry? Do you have some ongoing source of energy inside you?" Hermione exclaimed.  
She paused for breath and looked at him  
  
"Harry, sometimes every body hurts, but you're going to have to move on with your life. If you slip into a depression...I don't even want to think about it. You could stop eating properly. You could become bulimic or even worse anorexic!"  
  
Harry commented, turning away from her. "I really don't know why I came back. There's nothing here for me. If you were looking for Harry, he went for a nice stroll in the land of depression and isn't coming back."  
There was an awkward silence that followed that statement. It was scaring Hermione how cryptic and cynical Harry was. She wondered where the old Harry was, the happy, adventurous, exciting Harry. This Harry seemed dull, filled with pain, and on the brink of insanity. Then she finally understood. Part of him had died with Sirius and the rest of him was consumed in a deepening depression over it.  
  
If there was one thing Hermione had learned about Harry it was that he wasn't really much of a talker unless it was about Quidditch or Voldemort. He'd been so isolated the first ten years of his life without any friends to really talk to so he just didn't talk. You could tell even in class. He'd know the answer to a question - he just wouldn't raise his hand. Hermione always wondered why he kept all that knowledge to himself. Everyone with eyes could see (well maybe not Snape and the Slytherins) that Harry was smart, even smarter than Hermione when it came to defence and attack, but he just didn't show it.  
  
"Harry what are you talking about?" she said nervously "You belong in the wizarding world. Everyone knows you're smart. How come you don't use that knowledge? Why do you just sit in the back of the class and not raise your hand even if you know the answer?"  
"Er - it kind of has to do with my childhood I suppose." Harry closed his eyes, as if searching for the memories. "I'd know the answers but the teachers would never call on me. Every time we switched seats, I'd always sit in the back. No one liked me. I was just different. People don't like difference. There was this really smart girl in my class. She was different too. She had a friend though. I was just alone. Whenever I did better than Dudley in school, I'd get punished. So in the end I just decided to keep silent and I think I just didn't ever try as hard as I used to after that."  
"Sometimes," Harry said, abruptly shifting into a much darker mood, "I don't really know who I am anymore. I seem so different from who I used to be. I suppose I'm a little scared what's happening to me. You know how everyone says change is good. What if it's bad?"  
  
Harry, she knew, had never been good at controlling his emotions. They showed no matter what he did. Now it was completely different. Every emotion stayed hidden beneath the surface except for the occasional hint of depression and despair.  
"You need to relax more, Harry. You spend way too much time worrying and getting worked up over small things," she said, yet again voicing a thought aloud.  
"Hmm. I'll think about it. Ahhh. Not possible, try again," Harry said sarcastically.  
Hermione looked a little offended at this.  
"I was only trying to help," she whispered.  
Instead of flying off the handle like he would have if she had said that only a few months before, his expression merely softened.  
"I know you were," he said, his eyes closing and opening again two seconds later "I'm going to stay in bed today" Harry said.  
Hermione stared at him blankly, then she sighed. "You're so stubborn!"  
Harry didn't say anything until she left the room. "Not stubborn," he whispered after her, "just depressed." 


	3. Chapter 3

September  
  
The end of the summer holiday moved quickly for Harry since he'd been staying at the Burrow.  
  
After receiving this terms book list, as usual, delivered by owl, from Hogwarts, they had all taken a trip to Diagon Alley. In addition to his books, Harry also bought a new set of green dress robes. They also got to see the outside of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, located at number ninety-three. It was painted a brilliant shade of red that matched the twins' hair. There was a sign on the door that said "Closed: By Order of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."  
  
And before Harry had time to catch his breath, the morning when they had to catch the Hogwarts Express rolled around. Mrs. Weasley opened the door to Ron's bedroom and yelled at them to wake up and get some breakfast before they missed the train.  
  
There was a lot of commotion at the window, and Harry rolled over to see Ron reaching for a hooting Pigwidgeon, who could barely contain his excitement as Ron untied a letter from the owl's foot.  
  
"Knock it off, Pig," Ron muttered sleepily. "Blimey, my hands don't work this early in the morning."  
  
Harry consulted his watch on the bed table beside him. "Actually, it's not that early. It's already nine o'clock."  
  
"Nine o'clock?!" Ron cried. "I've still got to pack my broom!" He dismissed Pigwidgeon with an owl treat and took off downstairs in his pyjamas.  
  
Harry quickly dressed and made his bed. He searched Ron's room for anything that might be his, but most of clutter was Ron's. Harry couldn't imagine having enough possessions that he had to leave some of them behind while he went to Hogwarts.  
  
With a small amount of sentiment, Harry said goodbye to Ron's bedroom and pulled his trunk downstairs. He went to the kitchen windowsill and collected Hedwig. She had enjoyed the free roaming at the Burrow and was a little reluctant to get back in her cage. But Harry assured her that he was only taking her to Hogwarts, where she'd be free to hunt all night again.  
  
Harry took a seat at the kitchen table and grabbed a piece of toast and buttered it, then helped himself to a glass of orange juice. Hermione sat down in the seat next to him.  
  
"Good morning," she said brightly. Harry thought that the first day back at Hogwarts was her favourite day of the year - except for the first day of exam week.  
  
"Morning," he replied, eagerly eating his toast.  
  
"All set?" she questioned. Harry nodded. "Where's Ron?"  
  
Harry gestured outside to where Ron was sprinting outside of the shed in the backyard, carrying his broomstick. He was still wearing his pyjamas when he rounded back into the house.  
  
"He's running a bit behind schedule," Harry replied, grinning.  
  
Morning brought with it the usual rush of excitement, always associated with the start of school. Mrs. Weasley was rushing to find everyone's toothbrushes, hairbrushes, socks, scarves, and school bags. Shoes were assembled in the kitchen, while missing items were being looked for among the other rooms and closets. Harry had already packed his trunk, leaving him the only one capable of stringing together more than two sentences, which didn't begin or end with "where did you put it?"  
Harry was sitting at the kitchen table listening to Ron's complaints about Mrs. Weasley going mental, a glass of milk in front of him, and the daily prophet in his hands. He was trying to concentrate on the Quidditch scores, while Ron ranted. Hermione and Ginny were upstairs trying to help Mrs. Weasley find the last minute items, before they left for Kings Cross. The twins had arrived shortly after seven that morning, bringing with them an assortment of treats and pastries. They were sitting at the table with Ron and Harry, trying to read over Harry's shoulder, while they listened to Ron's complaints.  
"Well, you're mother is nearly ready," Mr. Weasley said, joining the boys. He looked worn out and tired, not surprising, since Mrs. Weasley had the man chasing about the house all morning in search for mislaid items.  
"Mum won't be ready, until Christmas," George complained, pouring more coffee for himself, and a cup for his father.  
"She's been this way every year since I can remember," Fred told them, a smile on his face. "Even with Bill and Charlie, she was a nutter the last day of summer."  
"Your mother just wants to make certain everything is packed, and goes well. It's just her way," Mr. Weasley insisted, knowing his boy's were right.  
  
"What are you all just sitting around for?" argued Mrs. Weasley. "Get a move on, or you'll be late. We have to be leaving in a few minutes. Arthur, go contact Remus and Moody. We can't go until they get here, and we're running out of time."  
"Calm down Molly," Lupin said, entering the room beside Moody. "We have everything under control."  
"Well it's about time," Mrs. Weasley argued.  
"Relax mum, or you'll have an stroke," George teased.  
"Besides, the Hogwart's express doesn't leave for another two hours. We'll get there on time," Fred insisted.  
"You two going back to school, then?" Ron teased, his mouth full of the muffins sitting in the centre of the table.  
"Not a chance," George said.  
  
Lupin and Moody led the way in Kings Cross, as Mr. Weasley and the twins brought up the rear. Mrs. Weasley walked next to Harry and Ginny, with Ron and Hermione on the other side of her. Harry knew from the way she walked with her hands in her pockets, she had hold of her wand, and for once, Mr Weasley wasn't looking at the muggle trains. He felt strange, knowing how much these people were putting on the line, in order to protect him.  
It was, of course, unnecessary. Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters were not hiding behind the dustbins neither did they swoop down from the ceiling. That was the job of the countless grey pigeons that sat among the struts that formed the structure of the roof.  
They came to the wall entrance of Platform 9 3/4, stopping and looking around casually. The muggles were too absorbed in their newspapers, or reading the large electronic boards that displayed travel information to take much notice of anything else. Harry could tell that Mr Weasley was enjoying himself immensely; he could hardly tear his eyes away from the Inter-City 125 as they walked along the platform.  
Lupin and Moody leaned against the bricks nonchalantly, quickly disappearing through them to the other side. Next were Ron and Hermione, followed by Harry and Ginny. Behind them were Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, and the twins. The Hogwarts Express stood next to the platform, billowing grey smoke and white steam. Whenever the autumn breeze blew in the right direction, parts of the platform would disappear behind a grey cloud. The hissing and puffing gave the illusion that it was really a great beast breathing hard and that it was alive. The students on the platform were reflected in its scarlet paint, and a red glow was cast when the sun caught the cylindrical boiler. He had never appreciated how beautiful and magnificent it was.  
Harry looked around the platform, seeing a number of students he recognised from the past years at school, as well as a large number of first years, all bidding their parents good-bye, many tearfully hugging and a couple of them begging the adults who were pushing them into the train, not to send them.  
"Now hurry up you four," Mrs. Weasley was saying, as Mr. Weasley, Fred and George loaded the trunks and cages of animals onto the train, to await their owners. "Be sure to stay together, and be very careful."  
"Blimey, mum," Ron complained. "We're not babies, you know? We've done this every year for the past five years. I think we can get on the train, by ourselves."  
"Don't give me any lip, Ronald Weasley," his mother insisted. "And Harry dear, please try and stay out of trouble."  
  
"I never try to get into trouble, Mrs. Weasley," Harry assured her. "Trouble just sort of finds me."  
  
"Remember Harry, if you need us, just owl," Lupin told him, placing a strong hand on his shoulder.  
"And keep your eyes and ears open. Constant vigilance" Moody reminded them.  
"Be sure and let Dumbledore know of any more dreams," Mr. Weasley insisted, shaking his hand.  
"Don't worry, I will." Harry promised.  
"Hey Harry," Fred said hurrying up to his side. "Have a good year, and tell Filch we said hello." Harry frowned, as George crowded closer to his side, pulling his hand out of his pocket, keeping it out of sight of their mother, as he slipped a brown wrapped package into it Harry's hand.  
"Yeah, tell old Snape hello for us too," George said with a wink. Harry nodded, hiding the package behind his back.  
"Come on," Ron complained, seeing the way several of the students stared at them as they passed by. "Lets get a compartment, before we get stuck sharing with Crabbe and Goyle."  
"Have a good year, Gin," whispered Mrs Weasley. "Be sure to write. I'll see you at Christmas."  
  
Then she turned to Harry. "And you too dear. Don't be afraid to send and owl now and then. And be good," she added. She slipped Harry a kiss on his cheek and told them to go ahead.  
  
Ron lead the way into the train, pulling his trunk and holding Pigwidgeon's cage, followed by Hermione, who carried Crookshanks, and Harry and Ginny, who carried along Hedwig and their trunks. They found an empty compartment and piled in, lifting their trunks to the luggage racks and putting the cages with the birds on top. Hermione let Crookshanks out of his cage, and then sat next to Ron. Harry looked out the window as he sat down, remembering what it was like last year at this time. He remembered the large black dog lumbering beside the train as it sped away, and felt a pang of grief strike through him.  
  
"Are you all right?" Ginny asked.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine"  
  
It wasn't long before Neville Longbottom's round face appear around the door.  
  
"Hello Harry! Hello Ginny!" Neville greeted as Harry and Ginny slid along the seat to make some room for him. "How was your holiday?"  
  
"It was great," Harry replied automatically. "How was yours?"  
  
"Excellent," Neville said, his eyes lighting up. "As a reward for bravery for - well, for last year," he said nervously, "Gran took me all over Europe to see some of the strangest plants that exist. We took a tour of the desert plants of Arabia and we even went over to China to see the Great Wall of Fungi. Which, well, technically isn't a plant, but it was great fun."  
  
"That's nice, Neville," Ginny said. "What else did you..."  
  
"Oh, I almost forgot!" Ron interrupted. He took a piece of parchment out of his pocket. Harry recognised it as the letter he'd received this morning. He unfolded it and handed it to Hermione. "I got this from McGonagall. She said that I'm supposed to meet with Snape in his office after the feast tonight."  
  
"Sounds like fun," Harry muttered.  
  
"Yeah, I'm really looking forward to it," he replied sarcastically. "I bet he's looking forward to laughing in my face too."  
  
"Ron, you don't know that he's going to say no," Hermione said.  
  
"Oh yes I do," Ron replied. "There's no way Snape is going to bend the rules and let me take his N.E.W.T. class because I didn't get an Outstanding grade."  
  
"You're trying to get into Professor Snape's class?" Neville questioned. "Why?"  
  
Ron sighed. "Because, well, I've been thinking about becoming an Auror, and the only way the Ministry will accept you is if you test well on the N.E.W.T. exam in Potions."  
  
"Oh yeah, I've thought about becoming an auror too," Neville said.  
  
Stunned, Ron nearly choked on his own breath. "Don't tell me you got an Outstanding O.W.L. in Potions, Neville, or I'll throw myself onto these train tracks."  
  
"Oh no, of course not. I barely passed," he replied. "But Gran says that sometimes the Ministry will train people who don't have N.E.W.T. experience in Potions.  
  
"I think that Snape is a terrible teacher for only taking students who have received an Outstanding on their O.W.L.s," Hermione said. "Everybody has their strengths and their weaknesses."  
  
"I don't mind," Neville said. "I wanted to take Herbology anyway. Professor Sprout says that I show some real promise."  
  
Harry wasn't surprised. Herbology had always been Neville's best subject. Ron turned to him, his eyes cast down on the floor. "Er, the letter says something else as well..."  
  
"What else did McGonagall say?" Harry questioned. He didn't like the expression on Ron's face, or the way he cheeks were slightly red, or the way he wouldn't look Harry in the eyes.  
  
'Anyone heard from that Loony girl over the holiday?' asked Neville. Everyone shook his or her heads except Hermione.  
  
Ron turned to her. "I didn't know you liked Luna."  
  
Hermione shrugged. "She's grown on me. We've been exchanging letters all summer. She wanted to hear all about New York City."  
  
"At least somebody did. Ouch!" Ron winced as Hermione punched him in the shoulder.  
  
"Oh, isn't this sweet. One big, happy, Weasley family," a familiar voice snarled outside the compartment.  
  
"Malfoy," Harry spat.  
  
He was standing in the doorway, with his two goons Crabbe and Goyle right behind him. His hair seemed even paler than usual, slicked back in a greasy wad, and his nose seemed to have grown a bit longer over the summer holidays.  
  
'Don't tell me Crabbe & Goyle actually passed something' said Ron in dsibelief.  
  
"No need to be rude, Weasley," Malfoy replied. "I was just stopping by to discuss what your mum and dad may have left at Grimmauld Place."  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy," Ron lied.  
  
"Oh, I think you do," Malfoy said. "In fact, I think there was a little bit of Potter's filth there as well. At least according to the late house elf."  
  
Hermione sucked in her breath. She was very partial to house elves. "What do you mean, the late house elf?"  
  
"Ah yes, you always were softhearted for your equals, Granger," Malfoy drawled. "Kreacher - was that his name? He certainly wasn't very fond of you. Spilled all of your secrets, I'm afraid."  
  
"It was too bad he fell into the fire while making dinner one evening. I guess he just couldn't catch his footing after I pushed him. A pity that we couldn't find enough of his head in the charred remains to hang up on the wall in the hallway," he laughed.  
  
"You horrible, evil..!" Hermione cried.  
  
Harry had never seen her so angry before. She was even more cross than the time Malfoy stirred up trouble for Hagrid with Buckbeak. It was at that point that he actually feared for Malfoy's life. Nobody messed with Hermione's house elves.  
  
She sprung out of her seat on the train, and then cursed at both Ron and Neville for holding her back. She was clawing at them, trying to get to Malfoy. At first, Draco looked worried, but then he laughed as Hermione struggled in Ron's arms.  
  
Malfoy laughed and gestured to his two goons. "Let's get out of here, before Weasley wets his pants."  
  
As he turned to leave, Harry shouted, "How's your dad, Malfoy? Enjoying his time in Azkaban?"  
  
Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks. Harry saw him finger his wand in the pocket of his robes. He turned on Harry, his wand raised and ready. "Care to ask me again, Potter?"  
  
'I said "how's that scumbag you call a father"' replied Harry.  
  
Malfoy drew his wand, as did Harry. They stood motionless, facing each other across the compartment.  
  
"It just goes to show you that money and well-placed threats doesn't conquer all" said Harry, trying to goad Malfoy into making the first move.  
  
"Now, now, just what's going on here, boys?" the witch asked as she passed the compartment with her trolley full of sweets. She glared at Malfoy, her dimpled face scowling.  
  
Malfoy's eyes were still fixed intently upon Harry, and Harry's stare didn't waiver. He would love to take on Malfoy in the train and put him in his place once and for all, even in the presence of the witch.  
  
Neville's voice piped up out of no where. "N-nothing ma'am," he said, letting go of Ron, who calmly took his seat on the train. "We were just... catching up."  
  
She eyed Malfoy's wand. "I see. Well, put your wand away please, young man," she said to Draco. "We haven't arrived at Hogwarts yet. Anything from the trolley?" she asked.  
  
Everyone shook their head in agreement, and the compartment was silent until the squeaking of her wheels vanished down the hallway.  
  
"This isn't over," Malfoy spat. "I'd watch your backs this year if I were you. My father may be in Azkaban, but it won't be long before..." his voice trailed off as he glanced in the direction that the witch had gone. "It won't be long before he's not anymore."  
  
'Anytime Malfoy. Just you & me. Leave your boyfriends at home' retorted Harry 'or are you going to chicken out like you did in the first year?'  
  
Malfoy tucked his wand back into his robes, and then turned on his heel and out of their compartment.  
  
Ginny sighed in relief and sat back in her seat.  
  
"D'you think he was serious?" Harry asked. "About knowing all of our secrets?"  
  
Ron shrugged. "I'm not sure."  
  
"But he was serious about Kreacher," Hermione said bitterly. "I hate Malfoy. I just... I hate him. It's people like Malfoy who make me want to entirely reconsider my career path."  
  
"What do you mean?" Ron asked, rubbing his arm. Harry had given it a good twist while trying to hold him back from Malfoy.  
  
"Well, I'd really like to continue with S.P.E.W."  
  
"Not again!" Ron cried.  
  
Hermione held her hand up to silence him. "Do you think that what happened to Kreacher was really fair? Really? He was killed for no reason by some snot-nosed brat - probably after being tortured for information."  
  
"I doubt it," Harry said. "I don't think that the Malfoys would have had to torture Kreacher to spill his guts."  
  
"Still," Hermione replied, "it's wrong. I feel that wizards owe it to the house elves to look after them. They've looked after us for centuries. It's time to return the favour."  
  
They sat in silence for a while, watching the countryside becoming progressively wilder the closer they got to Hogwarts. The bright sunny day that started in London was slowly changing into a lead sky with dark clouds that threatened rain.  
  
"Hey, Harry, did you bring that advanced spell book with you?" Hermione asked "Yeah, why?"  
"Wasn't there a spell in there, to ward off the killing curse?" Harry frowned. He had read so many spells, charms, hexes and curses; he couldn't remember all of them.  
"I think there was mention of it, but I can't recall. Why do you ask?"  
"If there was a way to avoid the killing curse's effects, why wouldn't it be public knowledge?"  
"Maybe it doesn't really work," Ron said.  
"Or maybe it's just too hard for the average wizard, like the Patronus ," Ginny added.  
"If it was easy, it wouldn't have been in The Advanced Book of Dark Arts and Forbidden Curses," Harry agreed. "Some of those spells were really complicated."  
"Why are you so concerned about the killing curse?" Ron asked.  
"I'm just thinking of ways Harry can protect himself, when he confronts You-Know-Who," Hermione said. "You know he's going to try and use the curse on Harry, so it's only logical to learn all we can about the curse, and find ways to protect against it."  
"Just like you, Hermione," Ron grumbled, reaching for another box of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Bean. "Even when there's no homework to be done, you find something to study."  
"And what's wrong with that, Ronald Weasley?" Hermione asked, bitterly. "My studying has saved your skin a number of times."  
  
"So who do you think the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is going to be?" Ron asked.  
  
"I think I know who it is," Hermione said, grinning.  
  
"Who?"  
  
She turned to Harry, still grinning. "Well, I think it's going to be Lupin. You know how he told Harry, 'I'm sure you'll be seeing me soon,' before he left the other day? I wonder if Dumbledore's going to give him another shot at the job."  
  
"That'd be excellent!" Ron cried. "He was the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had."  
  
"I don't think it's him," Harry replied, feeling guilty. He hadn't told Ron and Hermione about the real function of Remus's gift. Harry was almost positive that was the only reason Remus said he'd be seeing him soon.  
  
"Lupin said he's going to be really busy with the Order and everything." Hermione seemed unconvinced.  
  
"Aren't you two supposed to be doing prefect duties?" asked Neville to Ron & Hermione  
  
"Oh no! I forgot." said Hermione getting to her feet, and pulling Ron up.  
  
"I'm not that bothered" commented Ron, who really wanted to remain in the compartment.  
  
"Get going Ronald Weasley" said Hermione as she pushed him out into the corridor.  
  
The express trundled on, swaying gently from side to side. All the while, as they travelled North, the sky became darker. Nightfall brought with it the thunder and lighting of a typical Scottish autumn night. The drizzling rain beat against the windowpanes, as the train pulled into Hogsmeade station. Harry and Ginny had already changed into their uniforms and robes, when Ron and Hermione joined them once they had finished their prefect duties  
  
Ron spent a great deal of the time helping Hermione round up Crookshanks, who had snuck out of the compartment shortly after they boarded the train, and had yet to return. He then helped her gather up the books that she had brought out to study, and even pulled her trunk down and helped her repack her belongings.  
  
The train huffed and puffed, as the students disembarked, looking around the wet dark night for friends from the previous year. Harry looked to the end of the platform, seeing the lumbering frame of Hagrid, holding the large lantern, calling to the first years. Harry smiled, waving a friendly greeting to the large man. He, Ginny, Neville, Ron and Hermione hastened to find an empty coach to take them away from the rain and onto the castle. As usual, a large thestral, looking like a demonic cross between a horse and a flying reptile from another era, was harnessed within two struts in front of the carriage. It watched the group with it's red eyes as they approached, occasionally flexing it's leathery wings, and stamping it's hooves in the mud. Despite it's terifying appearance, the thestral was relatively tame, having been raised by Hagrid. Clearly it wasn't overjoyed about having to stand around in the rain.  
They had just climbed in, when the door opened again, revealing the far off, mystical expression of a wet Luna Lovegood.  
  
"Hallo," she said. "Can I join you?" Harry was happy to see her, having gone through so much last year, he was afraid she would have chosen not to return to school.  
"Come in," Hermione said, scooting closer to Ron to give them room.  
"How was your summer?" Luna asked, her eyes revealing the almost trance like gleam.  
"Not bad," Harry said "How was yours?"  
"All right," she said, sitting next to Ginny as Neville sat across from her. "My father and I went to Australia to find the Clabbert. My father's magazine was doing a feature on them, and he wanted to investigate their natural habitat."  
"What's the Clabbert?" Ron asked, glancing around the small carriage as it began bouncing toward the school.  
"The Clabbert," Hermione began, in her usual bookish tone. "Is an arboreal creature, which resembles a cross between a monkey and a frog. It has smooth mottled green skin, short horns and a wide grinning mouth. It has long arms with webbed hands and feet that allow it to move easily through the trees. It also has a large pustule on its forehead, which flashes red when it senses the approach of danger and Muggles."  
  
"Gross," Ron complained, the sour look on his face was indisputable despite the gloom.  
"They are also highly intelligent, and clairvoyant," Luna added, receiving a disapproving look from Hermione, who rolled her eyes. "It is said the Clabbert can predict the future."  
"That's rubbish," Hermione said, folding her hands across her chest. "The Clabbert is not clairvoyant and can not predict anything more than an immediate threat of danger."  
"You should have read The Quibbler, this past August," Luna said, her tone filled with her usual mysterious tone. "You would have known the truth about the Clabbert." Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but was silenced by Ginny, who saw the impending argument about to erupt.  
"Sounds like you had a wonderful holiday," she said smiling.  
  
The rest of the trip to the school was uneventful, with only the soft rustling of the wind and constant drumming of rain on the carriage roof to keep them from drifting too far into their own thoughts. Harry looked out of the rain spotted window for his first glance of the school, and saw its many towers silhouetted against the black sky whenever a bolt of lighting lit the sky.  
Once the carriages stopped in front of the large stone steps of the main entrance, the excitement of being back to school filtered into them, and they jumped to the rain soaked grass. They gathered their trunks, animals and pulled their cloaks around them tighter, hurrying up the steps to the large doors. Once inside, the trunks were put aside, Pig's and Hedwig's cages sat on top along with Crookshanks, as the six of them hurried into the great hall.  
  
The ceiling was bewitched to resemble the outside sky, and Harry looked up to see the lightening streak above his head. The large house tables were lined with golden plates and goblets, with the promise of a large feast to come. Ron's stomach growled loudly next to him, and Harry smiled while Ron blushed. They hurried to their table, saying good-bye to Luna and sat down; Harry and Ginny on one side, Ron and Hermione and Neville on the other. The sounds of the weather outside crackled through the excited chatter of the students, bringing a momentary halt to the endless conversations.  
"I wish they'd hurry up," Ron grumbled, his hand on his stomach. "I'm starving."  
The students continued to fill the great hall, noise and laughter rebounding off the stone walls. Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, the Creevy brothers; Colin and Dennis, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown soon joined the rest of the Gryffindors, and greetings were exchanged. Harry smiled and waved as each joined them. He was amazed at how many had returned to school, and delighted that the mood was very happy and joyous.  
  
Harry looked up at the High Table. There was one empty seat at the end of the table, which Harry assumed was for Hagrid. Harry recognised all the other teachers, except for a woman who was seated next to McGonagall.  
  
"Who is that?" Ron muttered under his breath. They took a seat near the head of the Gryffindor table. "She looks like McGonagall's twin or something."  
  
Indeed, the woman sitting next to McGonagall looked exactly like a younger version of her. Her hair was tied back into a tight bun, but it was all black, unlike McGonagall's salt-and-pepper hair that had been turning grey over the years. She wore the same square spectacles as Professor McGonagall and had the same beady eyes. The two of them were talking energetically and both were smiling.  
  
"Think she has a younger sister?" Harry asked. "Or a daughter?"  
  
Hermione shrugged. Ron swore under his breath. "Just what Hogwarts needed - two McGonagalls."  
  
Harry didn't bother hiding his grin as Professor McGonagall suddenly stood up and retrieved the Sorting Hat. A hush fell over the Great Hall as the first years were brought inside, huddling together from the frigid trip across the lake. Harry watched Hagrid slip inside and take his place at the end of the staff table.  
Professor McGonagall set the dusty sorting hat on a three-legged stool in front of the four tables. She took a step back as the brim of the hat opened up and began its song:  
  
A year ago I told you all,  
The tale of the all the Founders' fall.  
Centuries later it's my duty to warn,  
Throughout the year the school with be torn.  
Strength in friendship and family and love,  
Will prove to be the only weapon against pure blood. Choose your side carefully, no matter your house,  
For in the end my sort will not matter an ounce.  
Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, Gryffindors, and Slytherins,  
Will all have a chance to prove exactly where they fit in.  
Loyal souls, clever minds, brave hearts, and a thirst for power Will all come together in the final hour.  
So it is with a heavy burden I say goodbye,  
A hat hiding a tear,  
Because I hope, dear students of Hogwarts,  
That I will see you again next year.  
  
There was an awkward silence after the hat finished its song. Dumbledore was the first to clap, and then the staff joined in.  
  
"Bit of a downer," Ron said quietly, reluctantly giving his applause. Harry had to agree. "I think we need a new hat"  
  
"Let the Sorting begin!" Dumbledore announced  
  
Professor McGonagall stepped up to the stool and read the first name from a piece of parchment. "Benjamin Aho."  
Harry watched as a small boy with pale blonde hair took a seat on the stool. Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on his head. After a few moments, the Hat shouted out, "Hufflepuff!" Cheers erupted from the Hufflepuff table as he joined them in an empty chair.  
  
"Is it just me, or are the first years getting smaller and smaller?" Ron questioned.  
Hermione scoffed. "Your head's just getting bigger and bigger, that's all Ron."  
"Very funny. You know, I think I was a lot taller when I was a first year..." he began, but Hermione shushed him.  
  
Professor McGonagall continued to call first years up to the Sorting Hat's stool until there was only one very intimidated girl by the name of Helen Warren left. All of the students in the Great Hall cheered as she joined the Ravenclaw table.  
  
When Dumbledore stood from his seat at the centre of the high table, Harry couldn't help noticing that he too looked as though he had grown older during the summer holidays. But when he smiled at the four house tables, his blue eyes twinkling wildly, he looked much younger. An immediate silence fell over all of the students as Dumbledore cleared his throat and began his speech.  
  
"Newcomers, old friends, and new friends, I welcome you, once again, to Hogwarts. I promise I only have a few announcements to make and one introduction. As always, the Dark Forest is off limits to all students, at all times - no matter what sort of creatures may prowl between trees."  
  
Harry was quite sure that he was distinctly addressing his section of the Gryffindor table at this point. He sank into the back of his chair, hoping to blend in with the rest of his house. In fact, Harry had no desire to go into the Dark Forest to visit Grawp.  
  
"The caretaker, Mr. Filch, has also informed me that the Forbidden Object List now consists of 469 items, and can be viewed in his office at the request of any student. He also wishes me to remind you all that the mischievous events that took place last year will not be tolerated. Please don't get any ideas, as we are still trying to clean up the mess the Weasley twins left behind."  
  
There were nervous chuckles all around the Great Hall. Ron was blushing a little, but he straightened his shoulders and met the eyes of anyone who stole a glance at him and his shed of Weasley-red hair. He was proud of Fred and George, and so was Harry. They would be Hogwarts legends.  
  
"Also, I must impress upon you all the severity of using Dark Magic on these grounds," Dumbledore said. His face was graver, and he looked old again to Harry. "Anyone caught using Dark Magic will be expelled immediately and handed over to the proper authorities, where stern punishment will result." He seemed to be looking directly at the Slytherin table as he spoke. "There will be absolutely no tolerance."  
  
Harry, Hermione, and Ron exchanged worried glances.  
  
"And finally, I would like to introduce you all to the new Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor, Professor Leurre." The professor next to McGonagall gave a short nod and a thin-lipped smile. "And without further ado," Dumbledore said, "let the feast begin!" And with a clap of his hands, food appeared before Harry on the table.  
  
"Leurre?" Hermione said out loud. "Where have I heard that before?"  
  
Ron shrugged. "What do you think that warning about using Dark Magic was about?" he asked, digging into the meal in front of him.  
  
"I suppose he's just making things clear for the Slytherins," Harry suggested. "They've been warned.  
  
"You know, that's something that's bothered me over the summer," Hermione whispered, biting her lower lip. "I mean, if you think about it, our side has Dumbledore's Army. We have D.A. What if the other side has some junior D.E. club?"  
  
"D.E.?" Ron questioned.  
  
Harry frowned. "Death Eaters."  
  
The meal, as always, was excellent. Ron's table manners hadn't improved during the summer, and he outdone himself by managing to almost complete a sentence with a mouthful of food. A loud belch succeeded this achievement, just as Nearly Headless Nick's head rose through the table.  
  
"Ah Mr Weasley. Enjoying your meal I hear" said Nick  
  
"Yeah, Fanks" said Ron, craming more potato in.  
  
Hermione was revolted, and told Ron so.  
  
"It's a compiment in Japan" he retorted, "so really you could say I've got excellent table manners"  
  
After Ron and Harry had eaten so much they felt ill, they made their way slowly to the common room.  
  
"Argh, I've eaten too much" groaned Ron, cletching his distended gut. "I think I need to lie down"  
  
"Well you shouldn't have had four helpings" nagged Hermione. "It's entirely your own fault"  
  
Harry collapsed into a chair in the common room across from Hermione and started massaging his stomache in the hope that it would ease the discomfort. Ron moaned about how evil Snape was as he departed for his consultation with him, leaving the two of them alone for a dull and uneventful game of Wizard's Chess. He was beating the pants off of Hermione without even trying. Harry could tell she was distracted. She would look at the board, a befuddled expression on her face, and chew her lower lip. Her eyes were clouded and far away.  
  
"Do you think Snape will let him in?" she questioned.  
  
Harry shrugged. He was afraid to hope for anything.  
  
"I mean, it's not like he doesn't try. Okay, well, maybe there are some days where he plays Quidditch instead of doing his Potions homework, but everybody needs to have a little fun now and then... er, everyday..." She sighed. "  
  
"Check," Harry said, moving his bishop diagonally from Hermione's king.  
  
She moved it forward one space. "I saw this protest outside of a steakhouse while on holiday. It was amazing. People were carrying signs with photos of dead carcasses and meat processing plants on them. There was even a cow outside with a sign strapped around its neck that said, 'Don't eat me!' in big, blood-red writing."  
  
Harry laughed. He moved one of his few pawns forward a space, hoping to catch Hermione in a trap.  
  
"They had all of these pamphlets filled with information, too. And they were giving them away for free. I was thinking that maybe I could organise a rally for S.P.E.W. or something here at Hogwarts.  
  
Harry raised an eyebrow. "I guess. Checkmate." He was about to capture Hermione's king when Ron burst through the common room door, out of breath, his face flushed.  
"You're not going to believe what Snape wants me to do!"  
  
"Snape is crazy!" Ron shouted. A group of first years glanced wearily at Ron and left for their dormitories. "If he expects me to follow through with his evil plan, he's got another thing coming!"  
  
"What did he say, Ron?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Is he going to let you take the N.E.W.T. class?" Harry questioned.  
  
"Well, yes and no." Ron flopped into a chair at their table. "Snape said that he'll let me attend the N.E.W.T. potions class. Then I have to take the Potions O.W.L. exam again at the end of the year."  
  
"That's good, isn't it?"  
  
Ron shook his head. "Snape is going to make me go to every single N.E.W.T. Potions class and do all of the homework. Then, if I get an Outstanding, he'll consider passing me in the course."  
  
"What does that mean?" Harry said.  
  
"It means," Ron spat, "that I can do all the work for Potions, score an Outstanding on the O.W.L. exam, and he can still say that I never took the N.E.W.T. Potions class and I did all of the work for nothing."  
  
"So basically, you'll be participating in class, but not be graded?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Exactly. And he can just choose not to pass me. I asked him how do I know that he's not just going to make me do all of this work for nothing? And he folded those greasy hands of his into his lap and said, 'Well, Mr. Weasley, you'll just have to trust me.' Me? Trust Snape? I don't think so."  
  
"But it's the only way," Hermione said. "Ron, if you really want to be an Auror, you've got to make some sacrifices."  
  
"This is so stupid!" Ron exploded. "All because I got an E. An E isn't even bad! An E stands for exceeds expectations!"  
  
"Settle down," Harry said. "Snape just wants to get you riled up, that's all."  
  
"How do you know?" Ron demanded. "I don't know where this blind faith has suddenly come from, Harry, but you're mistaken. Snape doesn't care whether or not I become an Auror."  
  
Harry held up his hands as a sign of a truce. "Hey, don't get mad at me."  
  
"Harry's right," Hermione said. "You need to turn this anger into determination. You need to show Snape exactly what kind of Potions Master you are."  
  
Ron's face-hardened. He seemed to be considering everything in his mind. "You're right. I'll show him. Snape hasn't got anything over me. By the end of the year I'll have him convinced that I deserve to pass N.E.W.T. Potions!"  
  
"That's the spirit!" Hermione cried.  
  
Ron's face fell. "Except..."  
  
"Except what?"  
  
"Now that I'm not technically signed up for Potions, I had to get into a different class."  
  
"Which class?" Hermione questioned.  
  
"Herbology." Ron slammed his head onto the tabletop. "It was a stupid decision, I guess. The only other class that was open was Care of Magical Creatures. And after I heard Neville on the train, I thought, well, if Neville can do it, so can I. Now what did I get myself into? This year is going to be ten times harder."  
  
"Ooh, but that's really good," Hermione said. "When you pass Potions, you'll have six N.E.W.T. classes. And if an extra one is Herbology, the Ministry will think a lot more of your application."  
  
"Great." Ron yawned. "I'm sure it'll make mum and dad happy."  
  
Hermione winked. "Percy would be proud."  
  
Harry could tell that the two of them were going to go at it about Percy again, but before either one could open their mouths, he quickly interrupted them. "Look at it this way, Ron. Snape may have the power to not give you credit for the N.E.W.T. class, but at least he doesn't have the power to fail you."  
  
The next morning, Harry was concentrating heavily on his breakfast in the Great Hall when Ginny sat down next to him.  
  
"Morning," Ginny said cheerfully, helping herself to some muffins.  
  
"Morning," Harry replied, staring into the depths of his bowl of porridge. He could barely hear her over the excited chatter of everyone in the Great Hall. The Heads of Houses were passing out class schedules to everyone.  
  
"Ready for your first day of fifth year?" Hermione asked, sitting down across from them.  
  
Ginny nodded. "I think so."  
  
"Fifth year is hell," Ron said, sitting next to Hermione. "Although, I'm afraid my sixth will be just as bad. Make sure you score high on your O.W.L.s, Gin. Start studying now."  
  
"What do you want to be?" Hermione questioned curiously. "Do you want to be an Auror too?"  
  
Ginny snorted. "I'd rather be a troll guard." She chuckled. Then she looked around at the sullen faces around her. "No offence to you three. I just don't think that an Auror is up my alley. I mean, I like to lend a hand when I can, and I like the," she lowered her voice, "the D.A. meetings." She straightened up in her chair. "I just don't think I want to do it for a living. The chance that I may turn out like Mad-Eye is a little frightening."  
  
Harry laughed. He couldn't blame her. Who would want a career where she was risking her neck with every assignment she took.  
  
A flutter of wings announced the arrival of the post owls, which flew across the Great Hall sprinkling the students with water. Harry looked up at the enchanted ceiling; it was raining again.  
  
Hermione paid the delivery owl for her copy of the Daily Prophet. She unfolded it and read the headlines.  
  
"Well" she said to herself "I can't say I'm surprised. He had it coming"  
  
Harry looked at the paper, intrigued. A small article half way down the page explained Hermione's comment.  
  
STOLEN CAULDRON STING  
  
Magical law enforces smashed a stolen cauldron ring last night following an anonymous tip off. It is believed that they were going to be exported to Romania. The ringleader Mundungas Fletcher claimed that he was looking after them for a business associate and had no idea they were stolen.  
  
"Fletcher has long been suspected of dealing in stolen goods" said a Ministry spokesman "I expect he'll be going straight to Azkaban"  
  
"Mum will be pleased" said Ron "She never did like him"  
  
"What about the Order?" asked Ginny  
  
"Speaking of the Order," Hermione said, "are we going to round up the old D.A. crew?"  
  
"Yeah!" Ginny cried. "Dean and Seamus already asked me about it. They're anxious to pick up where we left off last year."  
  
"Even Seamus?" Harry asked. "He's only been to one meeting." Harry thought back to the year before, when the two of them had been at odds. Seamus's mother thought that Harry was dangerous, and she didn't want her son going to the same school as him, let alone sharing a dormitory.  
  
"Well, I guess it made an impression on him," Ginny replied indifferently. "So what do you say Harry? Is D.A. reborn?"  
  
Harry didn't know if he wanted the responsibility of teaching Defence of the Dark Arts to his closest friends. He couldn't help worrying that he was going to get them all in way over their heads. He didn't know enough. He didn't trust himself to really prepare them for battle with Voldemort or any of the Death Eaters. After what happened at the end of the last year - when his desire to save Sirius overpowered his duty to keep his friends safe - he didn't trust himself with the role of D.A.'s leader. Sirius's blood was already on his hands.  
  
He was just about to reject the idea of a reunion of Dumbledore's Army when McGonagall strolled past, handing out slips of parchment. "Class schedules," she said, giving one to each of them. Harry noticed that Ron's, Hermione's, and his all had their names on it, but Ginny's merely read "5th year." Their schedules were personalised.  
  
"What have you got first?" Ron asked, eyeing Harry's schedule. "Muggle Studies?"  
  
He nodded. "Who teaches it, anyway?"  
  
"It's Professor Avis," Ron answered. "She and my dad get on real well. She's got more muggle gadgets and plugs than he does."  
  
Somehow, Harry found that difficult to imagine. "How come I haven't seen her before?"  
  
Ron shrugged. "She spends all of her free time with Muggles. Takes pictures and everything. Uses their money, buys their clothes. She even goes out to bars and to the picture shows. A real Muggle-friendly woman. Anytime dad has a question, he asks her first. Or you," he added. "Whoever is closer."  
  
"Honestly, the two of you are wasting your time," Hermione said haughtily. "You already know about Muggles - especially you, Harry. You're not going to learn anything."  
  
"You'd be surprised," Ron said. "And why are you so against Muggle Studies all of a sudden? You took it during your third year. What's the problem with it now?"  
  
"Now," Hermione snapped, "we have better things to worry about. I took the class merely out of curiosity to see how wizards taught about Muggles. I didn't specifically learn anything I didn't already know. You don't even get to use your wand. Now that I think of it, it was a tad boring."  
  
"Well, good," Ron answered. "I need a boring class. If I've got the N.E.W.T. Herbology and Potions, I'm going to need a slack class."  
  
However, Harry was feeling bad about wasting his time with a class about Muggles. He had lived as one for the first eleven years of his life. Maybe he should have taken Herbology instead. If he wasn't going to learn anything new, then why was he wasting his time when he could be spending it studying something important - something to do with being an Auror? And why had Mr. Weasley encouraged him to take the class, then?  
  
Ron saw the look on his face. "Don't let Hermione get to you. She likes making people feel guilty for their decisions." This statement earned him a kick in the shin under the table. "Ouch! I think she's getting more violent as we get older, don't you?"  
  
"What have you got first, 'Mione?" Harry asked.  
  
"Arithmacy," she answered. "Then after lunch, I've got Defence Against the Dark Arts."  
  
"Us too," Ron replied. "Looks like we've got basically the same schedule. Except I've got Herbology before dinner on Tuesdays and Thursdays."  
  
Harry studied his schedule. He didn't have anything before lunch or dinner. Everyday he only had two classes for an hour and a half each. Now he felt really guilty for not taking harder classes. This year was going to be a piece of cake.  
  
The Great Hall began to thin out as the time for the first bell to ring approached. Hermione said goodbye to Harry and Ron to go to Arithmacy. The two of them headed down the first floor corridor to the Muggle Studies classroom, which was next to a portrait of owls sitting on telephone lines. Harry realised that this was the only painting he'd seen at Hogwarts that had any indication of the existence of the Muggle world. The owls were sleeping on the telephone lines, and every few seconds one would give a small "hoot."  
  
The room itself reminded Harry of a normal classroom from his primary school. There were about twenty individual metal desks set up in five neat rows. There was a wooden teacher's desk on the side of the classroom. It had a swivel chair behind it, along with some books, a day calendar, and a framed photo of a woman surrounded by some schoolchildren. Harry could only assume that the slightly podgy woman with short, wavy blonde hair was Professor Avis. A shiny red apple sat on the corner of the desk, glinting in the sunlight from the window. Harry guessed it must have been a bewitched window because the room wasn't anywhere near real windows at Hogwarts. At the front of the classroom there wasn't a chalkboard, but a white dry-erase board with multicoloured markers. In the back of the classroom, there was a bookcase filled with Muggle children's books and a box of toys. The only thing that looked out of place was the old brick fireplace on the right-hand side of the classroom.  
  
"Wow," Ron breathed. "She really went all out."  
  
The two of them took seats near the front as other students poured in. Harry saw that their class was made up of mostly boys, except for a few girls from Hufflepuff, Padma Patil from Ravenclaw, her sister Parvati Patil, and Lavender Brown from Gryffindor. They all sat together at the front of the classroom, chatting nervously and studying the room around them. Justin Fitch-Fletchley and Ernie Macmillan sat with some other boys from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. There were no Slytherins in the class, though that didn't surprise Harry. Their general hatred for Muggles was a well-known truth. Draco Malfoy wouldn't be caught dead in a class about Muggles.  
  
In fact, all of the boys from Harry's house were in the classroom. Dean and Seamus sat behind him and Ron, and Neville rushed into the classroom just before the bell rang. "I couldn't find the portrait!" he explained as he sat in the empty desk next to Harry. "When I walked by, there were only electric lines, no owls."  
  
Moments after the first bell rang, the door from the classroom opened and shut, and the woman who Harry had seen in the photograph waltzed inside. Harry was impressed. She was dressed very muggle-like in a navy blue pinstriped business suit. Her hair was pulled back in a bun, secured by plastic clips. She even wore a matching scarf. But instead of wearing shoes, she was wearing floppy, bunny-eared slippers.  
  
"Good morning, class," she said in a singsong voice. "My name is Professor Avis." She turned to the dry-erase board and wrote Professor Avis in loopy letters. "I don't think that I've had any of you as students before, but I'm very excited to introduce all of you to the Muggle world. I am honoured to be teaching the N.E.W.T. Muggle Studies class, as I have been for the past sixteen years. However, this year is going to be very exciting, as the headmaster and I have come up with some new ways for all of you to learn about the fascinating lives of Muggles.  
  
"The first thing I should tell you is that you won't be needing your wands for this class. I do not even want to see them out of your robes. We are going to learn about Muggles, like Muggles. I have a no magic policy inside of my classroom." She turned and wrote on the board, Rule #1: No magic. Harry saw some of the boys from Ravenclaw slip their wands back in their pockets, looking slightly disappointed. "Secondly, I do not have any tolerance for racism in my classroom. Anybody who says anything offensive about Muggles or their daily lives will be receiving detention immediately. One of the reasons this course exists is to teach tolerance of our human counterparts."  
  
Tolerance. There was that word again. Harry was noticing a pattern. No tolerance for Dark Magic, no tolerance for Muggle racism. Was Dumbledore trying to prepare them for a war in which Muggles were involved?  
  
Under the first rule, Professor Avis wrote #2: No racism. She continued to write Rule #3: Ask questions! "I understand that as a student coming from a family of only wizards, many of you have absolutely no knowledge of how the Muggle world works. Please, any of you, don't hesitate to ask questions. There are no dumb questions about Muggles, so don't be embarrassed to raise your hand and ask. They are truly fascinating creatures. It is amazing how we live side by side with them on the same planet."  
  
Professor Avis walked over to her desk and produced some sheets of paper. It was not parchment, but bleached white Muggle paper. She handed them out to the first person in each row and they passed them back. On the top it read Syllabus. And Harry was quite sure that the syllabus had been typed out on a computer and photocopied, which couldn't have been done on the grounds of Hogwarts. Professor Avis really went all out to maintain her no-magic policy.  
  
"In addition to your textbook, A Guide to Muggle Survival, I will also be handing out other books to you." There were audible groans from some of the students. However, she smiled when she heard them. "These books will usually be fiction novels, and I assure you, they will not be mundane reading. Muggles are captivating, and so is their literature. Now, if you'll all take a look at your syllabus," she held up the paper she had just passed out, "I'll discuss what we'll be studying and when we'll be studying it."  
  
She cleared her throat. "Our first unit will be about Muggle life. We'll be studying the common Muggle inside its natural habitat. We'll discuss the differences between our daily actions and theirs. The second unit is going to be about science, or how Muggles survive without magic," she explained. "This will probably prove to be the most difficult topic to understand, but we won't be tackling it until around November. Our third unit is going to deal strictly with tolerance. How we tolerate muggles and muggles tolerate us. We will be discussing how Muggles come up with their explanations that magic doesn't exist and some of the philosophies behind those who did believe. The fourth and final unit will be the shortest, but it discusses the most important part of this class. If you'll all please take a look at your syllabus..."  
Harry glanced at the paper in front of him. It read, Unit #4: Why the Wizarding World Must Remain Secret.  
  
"This concept is also sometimes hard for young wizards to understand. There have been many students who disagree with keeping the magical world a secret, but there are many reasons why Muggles aren't ready to be exposed to the wizarding world. Professor Dumbledore and I have decided that we will be having a debate at the end of the year, in front of the entire school, as to whether or not Muggles should be aware of the existing magical world.  
  
"This is just one of the events I have planned for this year," Professor Avis continued. "Every Wednesday afternoon, at the beginning of class, a special guest speaker will discuss their interaction with Muggles on a daily basis. But I'll wait until Wednesday to make any sort of introductions."  
  
"Finally, the Headmaster has agreed to allow us to do something very exciting on Halloween." She paused, as though she were waiting for every head in the classroom to look up at her. "We will be taking a field trip to London, where we will interact with Muggles on one of the most magical nights of the year."  
  
The classroom burst into chatter. He could tell that Ron was excited. Harry didn't know if he'd been to London for anything other than catching the Hogwarts Express or visiting the Ministry of Magic.  
  
Professor Avis shushed them. "In fact," she said, "it may be the only night where a class like ours can blend into the Muggle World, unnoticed as outsiders. Not to mention that it is a relatively stress-free Muggle holiday, so most of them will be in very friendly moods. We can also participate in the long-time Muggle tradition called Trick-or-Treating."  
  
There were gasps from the class. Harry laughed. He wondered if they were going to need costumes or not. He had the mental image of twenty sixteen-year-old wizards knocking on the door to someone's flat, crying out "Trick-or-Treat!"  
  
Muggle Studies may be an easy class, Harry thought, but at least they were going to have some fun.  
  
After lunch, Harry, Hermione, and Ron walked the familiar path to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.  
  
"I wonder how Dumbledore found someone to take the job this time," Ron said. "You'd think he'd have a harder time getting a new Professor than last year, after what happened with Umbridge."  
  
'Anyone know what happened to her yet?' asked Hermione  
  
'Who cares' replied Harry, remembering how the horrible toad faced woman tried to ruin his life last year.  
  
'Fred said she saw her working in the shoe shop in Diagon Alley' snorted Ron  
  
"I think what happened to Umbridge was the Ministry's fault," Hermione said. "I'm sure that there are some educated people out there who aren't afraid to take the job. I mean it's not like every teacher has ended up dead."  
  
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Although, this one reminds me too much of McGonagall."  
  
"Two McGonagalls would be my worst nightmare come true," Ron announced.  
  
"Oh come on, Professor McGonagall isn't that bad. Especially after last year and the way she stood up to Umbridge." Hermione always defended McGonagall, probably because they had so many of the same ideals. "Besides, if we do have someone like her teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts, think of how much we're going to learn." It was startling how much of a resemblance there was between the two of them.  
  
But as the three of them entered the classroom and took their seats, it was clear that in the visual category, Professor Leurre looked more like Professor McGonagall than Hermione did. She even appeared to have the same stern look on her face. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun again, and she was wearing robes of a rich chestnut colour. She sat at her desk with her hands folded, studying each student with harsh eyes.  
  
Most of the sixth years were in Defence Against the Dark Arts, including Malfoy and his groupies. He was sharing a desk with Pansy Parkinson; Crabbe and Goyle were sitting in front of them. The classroom was a little cramped, and by the time the bell rang, all of the seats were taken.  
  
Harry had seen the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom under the wing of five teachers before Professor Leurre. She appeared to be somewhat of a bookworm. Old dusty books that smelled of mould were scattered around the classroom. There were piles on the floor and on her desk. There were also a few magical contraptions that Harry didn't recognise. One was a big, white globe on a pedestal that reminded Harry of a giant Moon Guide, like the miniature globe he carried in his pocket.  
  
At the sound of the bell, Professor Leurre stood up and clasped her hands behind her back and paced the classroom in very McGonagall-like fashion. "Welcome to the N.E.W.T. Defence Against the Dark Arts class. Most of you already know who I am, but just in case you've forgotten, I'll remind you. My name is Professor Leurre. You may only call me Professor Leurre. I demand respect in this class just as you demand a proper education."  
  
She turned on her heel and faced the class, studying the rows of students. Ron looked positively fearful. "The headmaster has informed me that last year you merely copied spells from the pages of your textbooks. I assure you, this year will be much different, as I prefer the hands-on approach to the Defence of the Dark Arts."  
  
Hermione turned her head and smiled back at Harry and Ron. She hated Umbridge's open-book method. Harry was relieved to hear that they would be practising the Dark Arts again. Then maybe no one would want to join D.A. again because they would get enough homework from Professor Leurre.  
  
"I am very disappointed, however, that you are already in your sixth year and you haven't studied a spell's worth of ancient magic."  
  
Some of the students gasped. Harry apparently didn't understand the magnitude of what she'd just said. His only knowledge of ancient magic consisted of Voldemort's ignorance. Ancient magic was the reason that he was the Boy Who Lived.  
  
"Some of you may be more familiar with ancient magic than others. As many people are well aware of, ancient magic was the key to Voldemort's end sixteen years ago, and ancient magic was the very thing that brought him back." She was staring directly at Harry as she said this, and his stare did not waiver from hers.  
  
At the mention of Voldemort's name, there were cries of astonishment from the class. Harry saw Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle all wince, the way Snape did when Harry spoke the Dark Lord's name. Ron made a little whining noise.  
  
"In my class, there will be no mention of the Dark Lord or You-Know-Who. If you are going to speak of him, you must call him Voldemort and nothing else."  
  
Harry was a little surprised. He had heard very few people besides Hermione and Dumbledore speak his true name. The rest of the class was in shock, however. Malfoy looked outraged. "But Professor," he said, not bothering to raise his hand, "you can't possibly expect us to..."  
  
"Oh I can, Mr. Malfoy, and I do," Professor Leurre interrupted. "If you cannot bring yourself to say Voldemort, then perhaps you shouldn't say anything about him at all," she snapped.  
  
Now Harry was surprised that Professor Leurre even knew who Malfoy was. He studied the professor, and decided that she did look about the same age as Narcissa, Malfoy's mother. Perhaps they had gone to Hogwarts together.  
  
"Fearing a name is a waste of time," she continued, sitting down at her desk. "What you should all really fear is the wizard himself. But we're not going to debate about this right now." She began searching her desk, and there was a loud boom as she accidentally knocked some of her books on the floor. A mushroom-shaped cloud of dust floated through the air, and she coughed. She grinned sheepishly, pulling her wand out of a drawer. "First we are going to discuss the origin of ancient magic. For homework for the next class, I want you all to do a good twelve inches on what you already know about ancient magic, and also feel free to write any questions you have about it in your essay."  
  
Harry knew next to nothing about ancient magic, but he was pretty sure he could fill up three feet's worth of parchment with his questions about ancient magic. Immediately, a question that had been burning inside of him for years and years popped into his mind:  
  
Was ancient magic powerful enough to bring somebody back to life?  
  
"I thought Professor Leurre was absolutely wonderful!" Hermione said enthusiastically. It was dinnertime, and the Great Hall was loud and noisy from the excitement of the first day of classes. "Finally, we're going to talk about ancient magic. I have so many questions about it."  
  
"I think she was a tad strict," Ron replied. "Have you had her yet, Ginny?"  
  
Ginny shook her head. "I don't have Defence Against the Dark Arts until Wednesday. And I doubt we'll be studying ancient magic. It's not on the O.W.L. examination."  
  
Hermione sighed. "Well, we'll just have to tell you all about it during the D.A. meetings, right Harry?"  
  
Harry frowned. He certainly didn't want to talk about D.A. meetings over dinner. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all looked at him expectantly, as though they wanted him to make some kind of announcement about when the first meeting would be. He loathed his role as their fearless leader. He tried not to look at them, but instead, studied the meal in front of him.  
  
"'Arry!" exclaimed a voice from behind him. He turned to see Hagrid, the big half-giant gamekeeper and current Care of Magical Creatures instructor. "Good ter see ya!" He gave Harry a slap on the back that was more painful than friendly. "Hermione, Ron, Ginny." He nodded to each one of them.  
  
"Hello, Hagrid," they replied automatically.  
  
"Say, did ya get yer birthday gift?" he asked.  
  
Harry gulped. He'd forgotten all about the other half that Hagrid had promised him at Hogwarts. "I did, thanks," he replied.  
  
"Oh just you wait, 'Arry. You'll be thankin' me when you see her."  
  
Her. There it was again. The curiosity and worry was overcoming him. "Hagrid, it's not an animal, is it?"  
  
He just smiled. "You'll have ter wait and see, 'Arry. Just wait and see. You can stop by t'morrow night, if you like."  
  
Harry wasn't sure he could wait until then. "What about tonight?"  
  
Hagrid thought for a moment, and then shook his head. "No, it'll be better if ya wait 'til tomorrow."  
  
He briefly wondered what Hagrid would be doing tonight, but Harry didn't question him. It was only the first day of class, after all. He probably still had lesson plans to create and a giant half-brother to visit. "All right Hagrid, I'll be at your hut tomorrow night then."  
  
Hagrid grinned and ruffled Harry's hair. "I look forward to it. And you'd all better take care of yourselves this year, ya hear?"  
  
"We always do, don't we?" Ron said, confused.  
  
"You know what I mean," Hagrid replied. He lowered his voice. "No funny business. With You-Know-Who..."  
  
"Voldemort," Hermione interrupted. Hagrid, Ron, and Ginny winced. A couple of third years looked fearfully at Hermione, but her glare turned them away.  
  
"With him runnin' around, you need to watch yer backs," Hagrid whispered. "And anything with that scar, 'Arry, you go and tell Dumbledore. He'll take care of ya."  
  
Harry, feeling self-conscious, quickly flattened his fringe over his scar, trying to hide it. "Er... thanks Hagrid. I'll keep that in mind."  
  
And with that, the giant winked and headed towards the staff table, the silverware clattering on the table with each step he took.  
  
"That was odd," Ron said, chewing on a mouthful of bread.  
  
"He's just worried," Hermione supplied. "And with good reason."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. "Look, we don't need to worry about this. As long as I'm at Hogwarts, I'm safe. As long as Dumbledore's around, we don't have to worry about anything."  
  
"You know, they always say that," Ron said, "but somehow, Voldemort always manages to infiltrate Hogwarts's defences. It's a good thing you've got us, Harry." He grinned. "I've got your back, mate."  
  
"Me too," Hermione said quietly. "So Ron, what did Professor McGonagall want to talk to you about after Defence Against the Dark Arts?"  
  
Ron stopped chewing and swallowed the food in his mouth in one gulp. His ears turned slightly red. "Ah... I don't think now's the best time to talk about it, Hermione."  
  
"You had to meet with McGonagall already?" Harry said. "Did you get a early detention or something?" he joked.  
  
"Er... no. Not a detention."  
  
"Oh, that's right!" Ginny cried. "I heard it from Colin Creevy in the Common Room. Congratulations, Ron! Fred and George would be proud."  
  
"Proud about what?" Harry had the distinct impression that everybody knew something he didn't. He turned to Ron, who wouldn't meet his eyes. "What's going on?"  
  
"You know, you're right Ron, we should talk about it later," Hermione said suddenly.  
  
"Why?" Ginny demanded suddenly. "Harry's going to find out soon enough."  
  
"Find out what?"  
  
Ron sighed. For a few endless moments, he played with the scalloped potatoes on his plate. "Look, Harry, I'm sorry. I tried to tell you on the train before Seamus came in. When McGonagall wrote me about meeting with Snape, she also congratulated me on making captain." He spoke quickly, his words all in one breath. "Please, don't hate me. I didn't ask for it. It's just, after last year - after you were banished from Quidditch..."  
  
Harry felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. He was shocked. He was angry. Jealous. He heard a voice inside of his head commanding him not to feel. Act normal. Show no emotion. "Oh, that's... that's really great Ron. You deserve it."  
  
Ron scowled at Ginny. "Look, Harry, I'm sorry. It's just that, last year you were banished from Quidditch so technically you're not even on the team anymore. And there aren't any seventh years on the team..."  
  
"No, it's great, Ron." Harry heard himself speaking, but he wasn't quite sure where his voice was coming from. "I understand." There were loud voices all around him from the other tables. He tried not to concentrate on the disappointment he felt. The anger. Stupid Umbridge - stupid Malfoy. It was his fault Harry had been banished from Quidditch in the first place.  
  
And then it began to sink in. He realised what Ron was saying to him. "What do you mean that I'm not technically on the team anymore?"  
  
Ron exchanged glances with Ginny again. "Well, as of right now, Ginny holds the seeker position on the team."  
  
Harry felt the rush of blood through his ears as his anger boiled inside of him. He couldn't even look at Ginny. The thought of her taking over as seeker hadn't even crossed his mind. Did he really think he could just waltz back onto the team - onto Ron's team - when he was absent for nearly all of the last season? If he couldn't be seeker for the Gryffindor team, he didn't know if he wanted to play Quidditch at all.  
  
"But you could tryout for seeker, and if you're better than her at tryouts, you can have your old position back." His voice was quiet. He was torn between his sister and his best friend.  
  
Ginny's face had turned as red as the hair on her head. "Actually, Ron, I was kind of hoping to take Angelina's position," she said. "Harry can be Seeker."  
  
"I don't want your..." Pity was what came into his mind. Ginny pitied him. She felt sorry for him. "I don't need your charity."  
  
"It's not charity," she quickly replied. "I'd rather be working with the Quaffle and scoring some points. You know, where the real action is." She grinned wickedly at Harry.  
  
"Well, that works out great then," Hermione said. "Harry can have his position as Seeker and Ginny can tryout for Chaser."  
  
"Great," Ron said lightly. "That makes my life a lot easier."  
  
"I bet it does," Harry said quietly. "So do I still have to try out?"  
  
Ron shook his head. "Only if somebody else wants to try for that position. But I wouldn't worry about it. Although, it would be nice to have you around at tryouts on Thursday."  
  
"Why?" Harry questioned.  
  
"Because I've only been on the team for one year. I'm going to need all the help I can get." Ron smiled carefully.  
  
Harry realised that he was getting upset over something he had absolutely no control over. So what if Ron was the new Quidditch captain? Ron hardly ever got anything he wanted. He had to become a prefect before his parents would even get him a decent broom. Harry scolded himself. He should be proud of Ron. He'd come a long way in a year. And besides, there was always next year for him to be captain. If he could manage not to get suspended from Quidditch again and survive whatever Voldemort had planned for him.  
  
Harry managed to return his smile. "Right. I'll be glad to help out - if you need it."  
  
Hermione let out her breath as if she'd been holding it for a long time. "Well, that was a lot of trouble over a game"  
  
Harry and Ron looked at her. "It's not just a game"  
  
Ginny stood up and grabbed a piece of bread from the table. "Oh, there's Neville. I've got to go ask him a question about my Herbology homework." She sauntered off to the other end of the Gryffindor table.  
  
"So Harry, about D.A., I really think we should get started as soon as possible," Hermione began.  
  
"Hermione, would you just lay off?" Harry said shortly. "It's the first day of school. I'd like to enjoy it a little before we have to get down to business." He was still feeling a bit raw from the shock of losing Quidditch captain to his best friend.  
  
"'Arry's right," Ron said, his mouth full of pork roast. "Give it o' rest for one day."  
  
Hermione frowned, looking disgusted at Ron's lack of table manners. "I don't know how you can eat that."  
  
"Eat what?" he asked.  
  
"Do you know what they did to that pig before they slaughtered it? How they treated it?"  
Ron swallowed in one gulp, looking confused. "I suspect they gave it a nice home inside a barn somewhere and fed it all the slop it wanted."  
  
"You are so ignorant." Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed back her plate, the roast left untouched. "I'm going to the library to get started on that essay for Professor Leurre."  
  
"Ah, yes, the first day of school wouldn't be complete without an evening journey to the library," Ron said quietly as he and Harry watched her leave the Great Hall. "There's no pleasing her," he muttered, and went back to his plate of pork.  
  
Harry awoke with a start, his breath catching inside his chest. His scar was tingling, but it didn't hurt. It just felt overly sensitive in the cool night air. Had it been a dream? Sometimes it was difficult for him to distinguish a vision from a dream. But it must have been a dream. Sirius was there. No, he wasn't physically there, but his voice was. Harry could hear him. The vividness that had awakened him disappeared into the cloudiness of his mind. He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. If only he could remember. What was Sirius saying?  
  
And as he tried to fall back asleep, visions of Ron being carried across the Quidditch Pitch with the Cup in his hands paraded through Harry's mind. But instead of feeling relief and excitement, all he could feel was bitterness and resentment.  
  
He felt empty, realising that there was really nothing for him to look forward to. He would always be a bit envious of Ron, wearing the sparkling "C" captain patch on his house robes. Harry felt his own failure with Ron's promotion. There was no excitement for Quidditch..  
  
Feeling more alone than ever, Harry reached out from his four-poster to his nightstand. Very quietly, he opened the drawer and grabbed Remus's Moon Guide. After slipping on a robe, he crept quietly to the deserted Gryffindor common room, leaving the snores of his roommates behind him.  
  
Harry plopped down onto one of the red plush couches. The room was almost completely dark except for the smouldering orange ashes in the fireplace. After surveying the room one more time, making sure that he was absolutely alone, he pulled out the Moon Guide.  
  
"I solemnly swear I only want to watch," he said quietly.  
  
The small white orb began to quiver slightly in his hands. Harry brought it to his eye like a monocle as it glowed brightly in the darkness. All he could see was white, and for a few moments he thought that maybe he hadn't done it properly. Then suddenly, he saw a reflection of his own green eye, and an illustration of Remus came into focus.  
  
Harry had thought he would find him in a bed somewhere, sleeping in the early hours of the morning. On the contrary, he was sitting in an old dusty rocking chair, reading a book. He looked content. He was wearing a dressing robe, his socks rolled down to his ankles. He had on small reading glasses and his hair was swept back from his face in a ponytail.  
  
Harry wondered where he was. He didn't recognise the furniture or the room around him. He wished he could have been inside the vision of Remus, like he was inside the memory in the pensive. Harry wished that he could talk to Remus. Not even about what was happening at Hogwarts, but just about anything normal. About the weather. About the way Bulgaria had swept the World Cup away from Estonia earlier that month. About how much he missed Sirius.  
  
"I have seen all there is to be seen," Harry whispered. The small orb lost some of its glow as Harry pulled it away from his eye.  
  
He thought briefly of writing a letter to Remus. But what would he say? He knew if he picked up a quill and parchment all of his thoughts and emotions about Quidditch and Ron and Ginny would spill out of him. He didn't want to burden Remus with his silly schoolboy problems.  
  
Instead, he slipped the Moon Guide into the pocket of his robe and stared at the fireplace until the ashes turned grey.  
  
Since the Order had abandoned 12 Grimauld Place, their meetings had been moved to The Burrow. The mood was sombre, as it always was now that Sirius was gone. Molly Weasley felt that if Harry were there he wouldn't last two seconds in the room without bursting into tears and running away. In fact, the air was so thick with sadness that Molly wanted to do exactly that. Everyone missed Sirius. He had brought such a life of happiness into the Order and in the midst of darkness lightened everyone's mood. Molly finally understood why Harry loved him so much.  
  
The order seemed to have been sucessful in recruiting new members during the summer. Several new faces sat around the large oak table.  
Dumbledore stood to address the group. "Welcome, especailly to our new members. I've gathered you all here for a very important reason. Severus has returned to us with very bad news. Severus, if you please"  
Dumbledore turned his head and nodded to Sanpe Snape nodded and all eyes in the room focused on him as he stood up.  
"As you know, I've just returned from another Death Eater meeting. I would like to first inform you that Voldemort hasn't picked up on the fact that I am a spy for the Order and I doubt he will anytime soon."  
A few sighs of relief were heard in the room.  
Snape cleared his throat and continued. "On a much more serious note, Voldemort has mentioned that he has a plan to convert Potter to the Dark Side. He has assured us that with no doubt the plan won't fail.  
"He knows the people Potter holds dearest to him are dead. James and Lily Potter and Sirius Black. As he did last year, he will send dreams to Potter of these people. Supposedly, they are to torture him until he turns on the Order. He has not said any more of the details.  
"What worries me the most is that Potter will have no power to stop these dreams. After his failed attempts at Occlumency this past year, I'd be surprised if he could block anything.  
"Also, I worry that death has affected the boy in a way that he won't recover from, a deep depression or something of that sort. He might not even want to stop the dreams just so he can see those he loves again. If that is the case, Potter can be easily lured to the Dark side. For now, this is all I know. As more information is given, I shall report to you."  
Snape sat back down.  
Dumbledore stood up. "Thank you, Severus. It is of the greatest importance that you put aside your personal issues with Potter and continue with the Occlumency lessons."  
Snape nodded.  
"Does anyone have anything else to add?"  
He surveyed the room. No one seemed to have anything to say.  
"That will be all. Have a good night."  
  
"I swear, McGonagall is getting more strict with age," Ron said. "These new essay regulations are going to kill me."  
  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed the stairs down to the dungeon for their first Potions lesson of the new year. Ron was still in a sour mood from Transfiguration earlier that morning when Professor McGonagall had informed them that she would no longer be accepting essay parchments that had margins larger than in inch.  
  
"Fred and George would turn in homework with two-inch margins and two-inch lettering," Ron continued.  
  
"And look where they are now," Harry said glumly.  
  
"Yeah, they're facing an inquiry from the Ministry," Hermione said. "Or have you forgotten?"  
  
"Doesn't matter," Ron replied. "They're still wealthier than I am."  
  
He kicked a loose stone on the dungeon floor and it sailed into one of the walls, ricocheting down the hallway. "Snape better not tell anybody about our deal. I can just picture Malfoy getting off on that one. 'Weasley can't even get an Outstanding on his O.W.L., and he's a prefect.' What I wouldn't give to slug him one with my bare hands..."  
  
"And you said that I was getting more violent," Hermione laughed.  
  
Harry couldn't help but feel a little resentment towards McGonagall about Ron being the new Quidditch captain. But he had shoved most of his emotions in to the pit of his stomach, stifling them from ever showing again. He wanted to be numb.  
  
They made it to Potions just in time. In contrast to Muggle Studies the day before, the Potions class had nearly every Slytherin in it. Harry wondered if Ron would have scored an Outstanding on the O.W.L. had Snape been his head of house.  
  
As they entered the dungeon, it seemed even more dank and dreary than Harry remembered. Harry and Ron sat next to each other and Hermione settled in an empty desk in front of them. A few moments later, Hannah Abbott sat down next to her  
  
Malfoy leered at Harry from across the room. "Hey Potter, looks like all of those remedial Potions lessons paid off last year. You've somehow managed to land in this class." There were sniggers from the Slytherin corner of the dungeon.  
  
Harry felt his cheeks go red. He wasn't going to let Malfoy get to him. He wanted to be indifferent. He didn't even bother to grace Malfoy with a reply or a glance. Malfoy's taunting seemed beneath him. It wasn't worth taking offence to. Harry couldn't be bothered with petty taunting after what he had been through at the end of last year. The only tragedy in Malfoy's life was the incarceration of his father in Azkaban, which he still seemed to be in denial about.  
  
The banter before class was only a mere indication of the unpleasantness of the first Potions lesson of the year. Professor Snape looked even paler than usual and spent most of the class barking at them about how incompetent they were. Most comments, however, were directed at Harry's side of the room. By the time Harry had finished his antidote to a sleeping draught, he was immune to Snape's snide remarks. He took a sample from his cauldron and placed it on Snape's desk. Harry could feel his dark eyes staring at him from behind his greasy hair.  
  
Harry didn't meet his eyes. Although he knew more about Snape than he ever wanted to, he had mixed feelings about the professor. On one hand, Snape had such a grudge against Harry that he stopped at nothing to get him in the most trouble possible. He was unfair, rude, and ignorant. On the other hand, Harry felt guilty about how his father had tormented Snape during his own education at Hogwarts so many years ago.  
  
But Harry was tired of feeling guilty. He was tired of feeling anything, period. He couldn't help it if he looked so much like his father. And I can't change the past, he thought bitterly as he made his way back to his desk. Suddenly, he heard the sound of glass breaking on the floor.  
  
"Clumsy, Potter," Snape snarled.  
  
Harry whirled around to find his sample of his antidote in a puddle on the dungeon's floor. His eyes narrowed in suspicion at Snape, who leered back at him, his smile unwavering.  
  
"Pity," Snape replied. "Looks like you'll need another sample. And you'd better stay after to clean up the mess you've made."  
  
Harry was speechless. Snape had just purposely smashed his potion again. The same thing had happened the previous year. Harry hoped that Hermione didn't wash out his cauldron like she had before.  
  
But when Harry returned to his seat, he saw that Hermione was busy trying to talk to Hannah Abbott about the woes of cattle raising. He found another empty vile and hastily filled it with his potion. He returned it to Snape's desk. The bell signalling the end of class sounded.  
  
"Potter, a word," Snape spat. It was not a request.  
  
Harry stayed put at Snape's desk. He should have suspected as much. Snape was probably anxious to hand out some sort of punishment for knocking over his first sample. The dungeon cleared out quickly, but Ron and Hermione lingered near the doorway of the classroom.  
  
"I can't stay," Ron said quietly. "I've got Herbology in five minutes."  
  
"Go on," Harry announced. "I'll see you both later."  
  
He studied the chalkboard behind Snape's head, determined not to meet his gaze. What could he possibly want?  
  
"How brave of your comrades to offer to escort you," Snape said. There was a bounce in his step as he approached Harry. His voice was angry. "Your only strength is with your friends, Potter. I hope you don't end up killing all of them."  
  
Harry's insides burned. He wanted to lash out at Snape. He wanted to draw his wand and hex him into oblivion. But that would only amuse him. Harry tried to be indifferent; to show nothing. There wasn't anything that Snape could say that would show the weakness of his emotions.  
  
"Strong and silent," Snape muttered. He continued to walk past Harry, and then circled around his back. The hair on Harry's neck stood on end. He wondered if Snape would attack him when his back was turned. Did Snape fight cowardly?  
  
Snape's shuffling stopped. "The headmaster has demanded that we continue our Occlumency lessons until you are ready for the next step."  
  
"The next step...?" Harry began.  
  
Snape ignored him. "Starting Thursday, we will begin having our Remedial Potions lessons at seven o'clock sharp on every Tuesday and Thursday thereafter." Harry suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. Snape turned him around in one hard shove. "And this time you will not be sticking your head in places it is not permitted to go!" he snapped. Harry could almost feel the dungeon walls shaking with Snape's rage.  
  
Harry didn't know if he was more surprised that Snape had shoved him or that he was actually agreeing to help Harry with Occlumency. Part of him was grateful. He wanted to be able to control his vulnerability to Voldemort. His scar was a two-way mirror. Voldemort could see what he saw, and he could see what Voldemort saw. If he learned to control the mirror, then maybe he could help the Order.  
  
"Yes sir," Harry answered. He didn't dare meet Snape's fierce eyes.  
  
"Now, get out of my sight." Snape circled around him before heading towards his office door.  
  
"Professor..." Harry began. He heard Snape's heavy footsteps come to a sudden halt. Harry didn't know what he wanted to say. He wanted to show his gratitude. Hell, he almost wanted to apologise for his father's actions all those years ago.  
  
"What is it?" Snape demanded.  
  
Without facing him, Harry mumbled, "Thank you."  
  
He heard Snape's footsteps again, and then his office door slam shut. Harry quickly picked up his books and supplies and took off for the dormitory. He didn't want to be around when Snape came back out of his office.  
  
Hogwarts found itself in the midst of an Indian summer. The grounds were still flourishing with summer vegetation. Harry hadn't bothered to run up to Gryffindor Tower to grab his cloak after dinner. Instead, he headed straight for Hagrid's Hut. As he approached the wooden cabin, he could hear Fang explode with greetings on the other side of the door.  
  
"'At's enough, Fang!" Hagrid shouted as he opened the door.  
  
But there was no stopping the bloodhound. He tackled Harry and attempted to give his face a bath. Hagrid pulled the dog off of him and sent him outside. "Sorry, e's a little excited. Hasn't seen yeh in a while an' all." Hagrid grinned.  
  
"Hagrid, you look... interesting," Harry exclaimed. His clothes had absolutely no holes in them, and he had a very nice tweed jacket that was a little short on his arms. His hair was actually trimmed, pulled back in a ribbon. His beard was still as unruly as ever. But as Harry looked him over, he did begin to resemble more of a professor at Hogwarts than the gamekeeper.  
  
He blushed. "Well, Maxine may 'ave had a bit to do with that. She says that any husband of er's got ter be nicely dressed 'n jackets and look presentable."  
  
"Husband?" Harry questioned. "You mean you two..."  
  
"Oh no, I was just tryin' it on," Hagrid replied. "It's just 'at... Well, I wouldn't mind bein' a husband someday. I've thought about proposin'..." He grinned. "And the jacket makes me feel a little better 'bout teachin'."  
  
Harry laughed. "That's great, Hagrid."  
  
"So are you ready for the rest o' your gift?" Hagrid asked.  
  
Harry gulped. "Ah, Hagrid, about that..." But Hagrid didn't seem to hear him. He ushered Harry outside of his hut. Harry followed closely behind him. "Is... is it something I can keep at the castle? Near my bedroom?"  
  
"Oh no, 'fraid not, Harry. In fact, this will have ta be our little secret until the end o' the year." He winked.  
  
Harry gulped. This was not good.  
  
"You can tell Hermione and Ron, o' course." He grinned. "But other than that, nobody ought ter know." He paused. "Okay, close yer eyes now, 'Arry. You're gonna love her."  
  
Her. Harry silently prayed as he tightly closed his eyes. He could hear some commotion and the clanging of metal. He envisioned a giant wire cage containing some deadly, gruesome animal, yet "cute" by Hagrid's standards. Maybe Harry could make a run for it.  
  
"Okay, 'Arry, open 'em."  
  
Bracing himself for the worst, Harry opened one eye. There was no cage. There was something standing upright on the ground. He opened his other eye. An object covered with a blanket. And best of all, it didn't appear to be breathing. In fact, it wasn't moving at all.  
  
"It's not exactly somethin' ya can wrap an' send," Hagrid explained. "Go on an' see."  
  
Harry approached his "gift" with extreme caution. Maybe it was sleeping. No, it was definitely too oddly shaped to be an animal. His curiosity was getting the better of him. He took a deep breath, and then removed the blanket.  
  
It was Sirius's motorcycle. It was vintage, but it's blue paintwork and chromed engine gleamed in the sunset like brand new. Hagrid had obviously put a little elbow grease into cleaning it.  
  
"I know he'd want yeh ter have it," Hagrid announced.  
  
'Excellent' said Harry grinning from ear to ear. 'How does it work?'  
  
Eventually, he made his way back to the Gryffindor common room. "Snap dragons," Harry muttered to the portrait of the Fat Lady  
  
"Same to you!" the Fat Lady replied as the door swung open. He made his way inside the common room where Hermione and Ron were sitting. Harry sat on the couch next to Hermione.  
  
"So what did he get you?" she asked.  
  
"What?" Harry stalled. He didn't want to tell Ron and Hermione the truth. He had to think of something - anything - that would satisfy their curiosity.  
  
"Hagrid, silly," she answered. "Was it animal, vegetable, or mineral?"  
  
"C'mon, 'Mione, we know it was an animal. Right Harry?"  
  
"Er... Right," Harry replied. He bit his lower lip.  
  
"Was it something big?" Ron asked. "Something ferocious?"  
  
"No, it was, um, Sirius's motorcycle" he said quietly, so that no one else would here.  
  
"Cool" said Ron, "I wish I had a bike instead of masses of homework"  
  
"Ron's been complaining about all of his homework for the past hour, and it's only the second day of classes." Said Hermione  
  
"Hey, I don't see you taking six classes," Ron grumbled.  
  
"Life must be so hard for you," Harry commented sarcastically. "Six classes, being a Prefect, Quidditch Captain..."  
  
"Well aren't you just a little ray of sunshine?" Ron said. But he didn't seem offended. But deep down, Harry knew the answer to that question. The motorcycle was dripping with history and emotions. The motorcycle had been Sirius's. Hagrid had used it to deliver him to the Dursleys' on that fateful night sixteen years ago. It had been on many journeys.  
  
Harry didn't want to know where it was going to take him.  
  
Harry and Ron were both anxious to get to Muggle Studies the next day. Ron had struggled through Charms earlier that morning. Ron had spent most of lunch whining about how hard his classes were, and he only stopped after Hermione promised to help him out when Harry had Occlumency that night. A break in Muggle Studies was exactly what they needed.  
  
"Wonder who the speaker is?" Ron said. "I hope we don't have to take notes or anything. My hand is still cramped from when Flitwick launched into the necessary motions for that reflection spell."  
  
"I don't think I've ever seen him write quite so fast," Harry agreed. "Hey, if you get the last of the spell regulations from Hermione, will you let me copy yours?"  
  
"Sure." Ron nodded. and the two of them walked silently down the corridor.  
  
Professor Avis was already at her desk. She glanced at them as they sat down just before the bell rang. Harry couldn't tell if she was angry or not. Promptly, she stood and walked to the front of the class.  
  
Today she was wearing a denim skirt and a bright orange sweater. She would have looked positively muggle if it weren't for the leather jacket and matching feather boa she had tied around her waist. It was very hard to take a teacher seriously when she dressed like Professor Avis did.  
  
"Good afternoon, sixth years. As you are all well aware of, today is the day we will begin our weekly discussion with our guest speaker. He will be lecturing the class for the first hour. I want you all to treat him with the same respect you would give any other teacher. He has kindly taken time out of his busy schedule with the Ministry to educate all of us on the wonders of Muggle Life. I'd like you all to welcome Mr. Arthur Weasley."  
  
There was some applause as Mr. Weasley stepped out of Professor Avis's office. Harry heard Ron make a small squeaking noise. He sank low into his chair, trying desperately to become invisible.  
  
"Thank you, thank you, you're too kind," Mr. Weasley said. He took over Professor Avis's spot in front of the chalkboard. She took a seat at her desk and folded her hands in front of her, watching Mr. Weasley inquiringly. "Once again, good afternoon to all of you. As Professor Avis mentioned, I am Arthur Weasley. I work at the Ministry of Magic Headquarters in London. I work in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, where we often work with Muggles and some of their amazing devices."  
  
Mr. Weasley scanned the class, his gaze stopped when it reached Ron and Harry. He winked. Ron sank lower into his seat. "Please don't talk about me," he whimpered. "Please don't talk to me."  
  
Harry didn't understand why Ron was embarrassed to have his dad lecture the Muggle Studies class. If anything, Harry thought he would have been proud that his father was so involved with the class.  
  
He cleared his throat. "Now, throughout my lectures, please don't hesitate to interrupt and ask questions. I understand that some of you know very little about Muggle life, especially those of you who come from ancient wizarding bloodlines. Some of you may also be very familiar with the ways of Muggles. Some of you may have even thought you were Muggles up until you received your letter from Hogwarts. But I digress..."  
  
Mr. Weasley began to pace the front of the classroom. "Now, to stick to Professor Avis's plan, we'll first be discussing the daily life of a Muggle. Does anybody have any questions before we start?"  
  
A hand shot into the air. It belonged to Ravenclaw boy. Mr. Weasley called on him, and he asked about what Mr. Weasley did at the Ministry.  
  
"I have been involved with raids of illegally enchanted objects. I am also first on the scene during Muggle Relations incidents. For example, if a Muggle somehow ends up with a bewitched object, I go to where the accident occurred. I assess the damage and also working with the Wizarding Task Force to perform memory modifications and emergency spells, if necessary. Last week we had a problem with one of those flesh-engraving quills. A poor chap was trying to address a love letter to his mistress and wound up with her address etched on his forehead for his wife to see. Needless to say, it was a very messy cleanup, not to mention all of the morality issues we had to deal with."  
  
A flesh-engraving quill? Harry wasn't aware there was a name for Umbridge's cruel detention tool. When Harry looked down, he could still sometimes see the scars reading, I must not tell lies on his hand.  
  
Mr. Weasley launched into stories about some of the most complicated and funniest situations he'd ever run into at the ministry, including stories of shrinking keys. After a few tales of misfortune, Ron was no long embarrassed by his dad but seemed proud. He had even joined in on some of the stories. "Dad, tell the one about the spitting tea pot!" he cried.  
  
The class also had the utmost respect for Mr. Weasley, listening carefully to his stories. Harry didn't need to take notes on the lecture - he was sure he would remember all of it. There wasn't a moment of boredom. The hour had passed by so quickly that everyone was sad to see Mr. Weasley leave. He assured everyone that he would be back again next week and they would stick to the topic at hand. "I'm afraid we went off on a bit of a tangent," he added.  
  
"That's quite all right," Professor Avis said. "I hope all of you realise that these tales of Muggle misfortune may seem funny, but they are very serious."  
  
"Indeed," Mr. Weasley agreed. His voice was grave. "It is very difficult for the Wizarding World to remain secret when there are so many wizards out there with a sick sense of humour. Muggles have also been killed in these so-called harmless practical jokes. And the Ministry is not just trying to keep our world a secret, but also protect the innocent. Teaching tolerance is the only way to prevent these incidents from happening."  
  
Harry expected Mr. Weasley to mention something about Voldemort's return and the threat to the Muggle world, but he didn't. After saying goodbye to the class, he headed back into Professor Avis's office, where Harry assumed he had a Portkey waiting.  
  
Professor Avis spent the rest of the class talking about the punishment for such practical jokes played on muggles. "Many cases have resulted in heavy fines, breaking wands, magic bans, or even sentences in Azkaban. This is a serious issue and has jeopardised many of our Muggle relations. Now, for next week, I'd like you all to read the first three chapters in your textbooks. And take good notes. We'll be having a discussion about it on Monday, and I'll also be passing out our Muggle fiction novel. That's all for this week."  
  
The bell rang, signalling the end of the class. All of the students were quickly taking their books and leaving the room. Ron turned to Harry. "Bet Hermione'll be kicking herself now. Thought she wouldn't learn anything," he said. "I'm sure we'll be learning loads from my dad."  
  
Harry didn't say anything out loud, but he doubted that Hermione would agree. At one point, she had wanted to take Muggle Studies to see how professors in the wizarding world would teach about Muggles. But now she just thought that the class was a waste of time in her case.  
  
The two of them returned to the dormitory and dropped their books on their nightstands. "It's my afternoon off," Ron announced, plopping on his bed. What should we do?"  
  
"Homework?" Harry suggested, grinning. "Nah."  
  
"Want to play some Quidditch?" Ron asked. "Have to keep you in shape since you don't have to tryout on Thursday."  
  
"That's only because I've got Occlumency," Harry muttered.  
  
"No it's not, Harry. You know that you've got your Seeker spot back. You've got nothing to worry about. Things can just go back to normal."  
  
Harry knew that things would never be normal now. Playing Quidditch didn't bring the relief to him that it used to now that Ron was the captain. And then he felt ashamed for his envy. Why couldn't he just accept the fact that he couldn't have everything? Was he so self-centred that he could only think of himself?  
  
"How about helping me come up with some plays or something?" Ron questioned, disturbing his thoughts.  
  
"I don't know." Harry stared out the window. It was a humid day and there were dark clouds in the distance. The grey smoke from Hagrid's chimney rose high into the sky and blended into them. "Might rain."  
  
"If we're quick, we could make it," Ron said hopefully.  
  
"Yeah, all right then".  
  
Whenever Harry was dreading something, time moved quickly. So quickly, in fact, that when he found himself outside of Snape's office in the dungeon on Thursday evening, he wondered how he'd got there. Had it only been the day before when his heart had been light and he was happy with the world? He'd spent the entire afternoon brooding over what was to come for his Occlumency lesson. He would have much rather been at Quidditch tryouts, but under the circumstances, McGonagall insisted that Harry attend Occlumency.  
  
Harry took a deep breath and knocked on Snape's door. The air smelled vaguely of the spiced salmon they'd eaten two days earlier for lunch. Harry wondered if the house-elves had mistaken Snape's office for a rubbish bin. It would have been understandable.  
  
Instead of inviting Harry in, Snape met him at the door and closed it quickly behind him. He was carrying a leather-bound book in his greasy hands. "Have a seat, Potter. There are things we'll need to discuss before tonight's lesson."  
  
Harry didn't protest, and took a seat behind one of the tables in the Potions classroom. Snape sat on the edge of his desk at the front near the blackboard and tossed the book over to Harry. "This is a dream diary," Snape spat. Harry flipped through the brown book quickly, and saw that it was filled with blank parchment. "Use it everyday. When you wake up every morning, you must record what you can remember of any dream you had the night before. If you have any sort of visions, sleeping or not, you are to record them in these pages. If you feel any pain, you are to write about it."  
  
Harry frowned. A diary? His duty to the Order was to confide everything in a diary? Like some schoolgirl? "I don't know..." Harry began.  
  
"You have no choice, Potter," Snape replied. The tension was growing between them. Harry wished that he hadn't thanked Snape earlier in the week. It was a moment of weakness. Why should he thank such a horrible monster of a person? "The pages are bewitched to copy to an identical journal. Whatever you write will be viewed by the Order. Do you understand?"  
  
He nodded. The only way the Order could keep tabs on what sort of information he and Voldemort were exchanging was by monitoring his dreams and visions. Harry wondered where the other diary was, and who would be viewing it when he wrote. This would not be like keeping a dream record as he had done for Professor Trelawney. This was strictly business.  
  
But all summer he hadn't dreamt about Voldemort at all. Of course, there had been just nightmares in general about the Dark Lord and Sirius's death, but nothing like a vision.  
  
"Get up," Snape commanded. "It's time to see how much you've been practising."  
  
Harry glared at Snape, then reluctantly stood up from his seat. He pulled his wand out of his pocket, and then took a deep breath.  
  
"Clear your mind, Potter," Snape said. "I'm not going to go easy on you."  
  
He didn't expect anything less. The two of them assumed the duelling position. Harry did his best to clear his mind and have a defence of absolutely no thoughts. Of course, there were always the lingering thoughts of Ron's captain position. Harry tried to push that out of his mind.  
  
Snape raised his wand and glared at Harry with his dark eyes. "Legilimens!"  
  
Harry was a blank. He was a clean slate. He couldn't - wouldn't - allow Snape to access his memories. But he was weak. He had tried to practice on his own over the summer.  
  
He'd managed to squeak out a feeble boil curse before he was taken inside his own memories to the Department of Mysteries, staring at the shelves of Prophecies. But it was no use; he fell to his knees on the dungeon floor.  
  
"Tisk, tisk, Potter," Snape said, lowering his wand. "I thought you'd do better than that." But there was one tiny boil that had appeared on the tip of Snape's nose. He probably couldn't see it with his greasy hair in the way. Harry had at least succeeded in one thing. "Again."  
  
Harry got up on his feet again, poised and ready for the next attack. He had to close his mind. He couldn't let Snape see inside of him. He had to be indifferent, the way he'd felt all summer. He could show no emotion. He could remember nothing.  
  
"Legilimens!"  
  
He gasped. His mind had been more vulnerable the second time. There were beads of sweat forming in the creases of his forehead. He must not let Snape see. He had too much to hide. He had too much pride.  
  
Harry whispered the banishing spell at first. Then he saw a vision of Snape in Professor Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore peered down at him from the telescope on the upper level. Dumbledore was younger. His hair was still white, but his beard was not as long. "You're late, Severus. The alignment has passed."  
  
Snape's memory snapped him back to reality and Harry found his voice. He shouted the spell at the top of his lungs. Snape was thrown back into his desk. The banishing charm was not nearly as powerful as it should have been, but it still had swept him off his feet.  
  
Snape regained his composure. Something in his eyes changed as he watched Harry. "Good job, Potter." Had Professor Snape actually congratulated Harry? Harry thought that perhaps Snape had hit him with a delusional spell when he wasn't paying attention. However, the impressed glimmer in Snape's eyes quickly disappeared, and there was no doubt in Harry's mind that Snape enjoyed torturing him. "But let's see how much you can take." He raised his wand once again, barely giving Harry time to take a breath, and bellowed, "Legilimens!"  
  
He was playing dirty. Snape hadn't given him the chance to recover and he was thrown off balance. Suddenly, he was in Dumbledore's office again. However, it was an older Dumbledore, the one that Harry knew, and he was sitting patiently at his desk as Harry threw his possessions around the room.  
  
"No..." Harry brought his hands to his forehead, covering his scar. He didn't want Snape to see that. He was ashamed. That had been a time when he had lost control of his emotions.  
  
Dumbledore was still at his desk, and Harry's heart quivered as a small tear ran down the headmaster's cheek. "NO!"  
  
The Harry in the dungeon fell forward, painfully landing on his knees. Snape pulled his wand away. "Temper, temper, Potter," Snape said, making a clicking noise in the back of his throat.  
  
Anger was rising inside of Harry. He was on his feet in a matter of seconds. He wanted to launch himself across the room at Snape and rip him apart with his bare hands. But this was what he needed to control. He couldn't lose his temper. He couldn't show emotion. He needed to be numb.  
  
Snape's eyes narrowed as he watched Harry struggling to conquer his own feelings. "Maybe there's hope for you yet," Snape muttered. "Again!"  
  
Harry stumbled back to Gryffindor Tower, his heart heavy and his scar sore and aching. The weight of the leather-bound diary felt like he was carrying a body underneath his right arm. There were still people in the common room when he returned, including Ron and Hermione, but Harry didn't even bother to stop and speak to them. He went directly up to his dormitory and plopped down on his bed.  
  
How was he supposed to find the strength - the energy, even - to practice Occlumency twice a week? According to Snape, it was only going to get harder from here on. When was he supposed to do his homework?  
  
He felt himself drifting off to sleep and quickly stood up from the bed. He hid the diary inside of his nightstand and managed to get undressed before falling into bed out of exhaustion. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.  
  
The first few hours of sleep were dreamless. He didn't hear the other boys enter the dormitory or Neville's heavy snores from his bed. It was during the in-between time, when the moon had disappeared but the sun didn't rise yet, that he slowly slipped in and out of consciousness.  
  
Harry found himself in a room, unfamiliar and musty, sitting in a rocking chair. He could hear the wooden rocking chair creaking against the dusty floor, squeaking with every move.  
  
He could see in the darkness. He could see his pale, bony hands folded in his lap. His dark robes stretched down past his feet. Creak. Creak. Creak. His rhythm did not waiver as a giant snake coiled at his feet, its red eyes glowing brightly.  
  
Harry didn't know how to explain it, but he knew the snake was warning him that someone was approaching. "It is only Wormtail," he said. There was a knock on the door. Harry stopped rocking. "Come in. What news do you have?"  
  
A short and feeble man, who Harry recognised as Peter Pettigrew, entered cautiously. "We have bargained with one of the guards. He will let them go in return for money and safe passage out of England, Master," Wormtail replied. "But it is a lot of money. He requests one-hundred thousand Galleons."  
  
"Give it to him," Harry replied  
  
"Yes, Master.  
  
A jolt of pain flared inside of Harry's head. He lifted his boney hand to his forehead, where he rubbed his scar.  
  
Scar? He had no scar.  
  
"He is watching!" hissed a distant voice. "He will suffer this year, my associates will see to it."  
  
The pain in Harry's head became unbearable. He felt as though it were splitting in two. He sat up quickly in his four-poster. It took him a moment to understand where he was. He had just been someplace else. A dusty room with a snake and a rocking chair and boney hands.  
  
The visions had returned.  
  
He was panting heavily in the darkness of the dormitory. Thankfully, it appeared that everyone was still asleep. Harry wasn't quite sure what to do. At another time, he would have jumped out of bed and wrote a letter to Sirius. But it was no use thinking of the dead now.  
  
He could write to Remus instead. But then there was always the chance that the letter would be intercepted. He could go to Dumbledore. But somehow, Harry couldn't bring himself to wake up Dumbledore just before dawn to confess a vision to him.  
  
And then he knew there was only one answer: the diary. He had almost forgotten about it. Quietly, he got out of bed and dug the journal out of his nightstand. He grabbed a quill and tip-toed down to the common room.  
  
Afraid that the vividness from his dream would disappear, Harry threw the diary down on the nearest table and hastily lit a candle. He tried to recall everything from the vision, but it was all getting blurry. He could still hear the creaking of the rocking chair, but what exactly had Wormtail said?  
  
There was something about money. They were going to bribe someone. They were going to bribe a guard to set someone free. To set them free  
  
He wrote down everything he could remember about the dream. If only Wormtail had mentioned some kind of timetable. When were they planning on getting rid of the guard? When would the Death Eaters be free? Would it be possible to prevent their escape?  
  
As Harry scratched the quill against the parchment, he realised that it was no ordinary paper. Every inkblot he made would duplicate itself in a blurry puddle, and then eventually sharpen into one copy of his handwriting. He wondered, eerily, who had the other journal, and where it was being kept. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He felt like he was being watched.  
  
"Can you not sleep, Harry Potter, sir?" squeaked a voice from the corner of the room.  
  
Harry slammed the diary shut and jumped out of his chair. He reached for his wand, then realised he'd forgotten it in his robe in the boy's dormitory. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw that it was Dobby, the house-elf. He was dressed in brilliant scarlet shorts - hand-knitted, of course - and a vest of gold fabric. He looked a little bit like a genie from a movie Harry saw clips of once, but at least it was better than a tea cozy.  
  
"Dobby!" Harry cried. "You scared me."  
  
"Sorry, sir. I is just wondering why Harry Potter is up so early, sir." He approached Harry with wide eyes. He tugged nervously on one of his big ears.  
  
"It's all right, Dobby," Harry replied. "Early?" Harry glanced out the window. The sun was peeking over the horizon. He could almost see the outline of the grounds below. He sighed. There was no point in going back to bed now.  
  
"Early by wizard time," Dobby replied. "I is running late with chores, sir. My apologies, Harry Potter, sir."  
  
"No problem," Harry replied. "How was your summer, Dobby?"  
  
Dobby squealed. His eyes tightened with wetness as he took a step closer to Harry. "Harry Potter is asking Dobby about his summer? Oh, Harry Potter is truly the most kind, most generous..."  
  
"It was good, then?" Harry interrupted with a grin. He did not want to hear about how great he was from the house-elf for just being polite.  
  
"Oh yes, sir. Dobby went to London for five days, sir. The most days Dobby has gone without working." He seemed to be holding back from punishing himself. "I visited with other house-elves."  
  
"Freed house-elves?" Harry questioned.  
  
Dobby nodded. "Oh yes, sir. In fact, there is a group of freed elves in London."  
  
Harry turned his head sharply. "What?" The only free house-elves he'd ever heard of were Dobby and Winky, and only Dobby was actually enjoying his freedom. Was there really a clan of free house-elves somewhere?  
  
"How's Winky?"  
  
"Winky is getting better Harry Potter sir. She drinks only a bit"  
  
Suddenly, Dobby slammed his head on the table Harry was working at. "Dobby is running late, Harry Potter, sir! Dobby must bet back to work!"  
  
"But Dobby..."  
  
"Dobby is sorry, sir. Perhaps we can chat another time. Next time Harry Potter cannot sleep, sir, he should come down to the kitchen for some tea, sir." He tugged on his ear again. "But Harry Potter should leave his Wheezy and Young Miss at home, sir."  
  
Harry laughed. Hermione hadn't exactly made the best impression on the house-elves with her liberating ideals. With a small smile and wink, Dobby snapped his fingers and disappeared from the Gryffindor Common Room.  
  
After returning the diary to his nightstand drawer, Harry plopped back down on his four-poster and tried to fall back asleep, but it was no use. As the dormitory lightened from the sunrise, his fellow Gryffindors were waking up and getting dressed, hurrying down to breakfast. Harry waited for Ron to stir and the two of them headed to the Great Hall for breakfast.  
  
Hermione was already there, reading her copy of The Daily Prophet over morning tea. She watched Harry carefully as he sat down next to her. "How was Remedial Potions?" she asked cautiously.  
  
"Oh, wonderful," Harry replied sarcastically. He looked around the table, making sure that nobody was listening. He explained about the diary.  
  
"I've seen one of those," Ron whispered. "Mum had one when she went to Hogwarts. It's called a Diary Duplicator. She and one of her friends would write back and forth to each other during their History of Magic class."  
  
Harry couldn't help but wonder if this was the same diary that Mrs. Weasley had used during her school years. Perhaps she had the counterpart to the one Harry was using. He'd have to watch his language if Mrs. Weasley was the one reading what he wrote.  
  
"Did you write anything in it yet?" Ron asked.  
  
Harry looked down at his plate of eggs. He'd suddenly lost his appetite. "Well, yes. I did have a dream - a vision - last night." He told the two of them about how he'd been Voldemort again, and Wormtail was telling him all about the plan to break the Death Eaters out of Azkaban.  
  
"This is serious, Harry!" Hermione interrupted. "I know you wrote it down in that diary, but you should really go and talk to Dumbledore about it."  
  
"That's your answer to everything, Hermione!" Harry snapped. He hated running to Dumbledore for every little problem he had. "Besides, I'm sure that he already knows. Probably, the whole purpose of this diary is so that I don't have to run to his office every time I have a vision. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if the Order and the Ministry already have everything under control over at Azkaban."  
  
Hermione still looked sceptical, but she dropped the subject. Harry was grateful. He hadn't made a trip to Dumbledore's office yet this year, and he wanted to prolong his first visit for as long as possible. Whenever Harry went to his office, it was almost always bad news.  
  
One afternoon Harry found himself trying desperately hard to stay awake during Defence Against the Dark Arts. He had spent half the night before in Snape's dungeon practising Occlumency. Snape was out for blood. And it wasn't enough torture in Occlumency - Harry had the impression that Snape enjoyed watching his misery in Potions as he fumbled for his ingredients. At this rate, he would have no chance at passing a N.E.W.T. Potions test. He could kiss being an Auror goodbye.  
  
Professor Leurre was pacing the front of the classroom, glancing down at some notes she had written. She'd just finished discussing the basics of duelling defence when she turned to the class, her face serious. "The time has come," she said, "for me to answer some of your questions about ancient magic. I must say that you are a very observant group. Most of your essays were impressive." She glanced in the direction of several Slytherins, her eyes narrowed. Harry knew that Malfoy didn't like Professor Leurre much.  
  
The Slytherin house had been treating Malfoy like a hero. Even though his father was in Azkaban, he declared his innocence at every opportunity to anyone who would listen. Harry knew he was only doing it to keep up appearances. He was loyal to his father like some mangy old mutt. However, Harry thought Malfoy was a coward, and if he had actually dealt with Voldemort, he would probably wet himself.  
  
"Now, I only have time to give you a general background on the subject today," Professor Leurre said. Harry glanced at his watch. There were only a few minutes before the bell rang. "But as I said before, ancient magic is limitless. It will never go away. It is hidden in the darkest of places. No witch or wizard truly understands all of its capabilities. Not even Voldemort." Most of the students in the class still shuddered at the sound of his name. Professor Leurre ignored them. "Not even Dumbledore." She paused and leaned back against her desktop. "The only masters of ancient magic, the only ones who really understand all of its secrets, are house-elves."  
  
At the mentioning of house-elves, Harry saw Hermione's head instantly snap to attention. There was some noise from the rest of the class as well.  
  
Harry had never thought of it before, but now it made sense. Dobby had some kind of powerful magic that let him disapparate on Hogwarts grounds. It was hard to believe that such power was given to such a small race. And the entire purpose of a house-elf was to serve a wizard, when in fact, they could rule the world if they wanted to.  
  
"House-elves have served wizards for centuries," Professor Leurre continued. "Their magic knows no bounds. The origin of the first house-elf is unknown, but legend has it that the first house-elf was bound to a wizard family by a curse. The first house-elf had abused its power, and each house-elf thereafter would be forced to carry out his sentence until he was given back his dignity by receiving clothes."  
  
Malfoy glared at Harry with his beady eyes. Dobby had been the Malfoy's house-elf until Harry had sent him free during his second year. Dobby had been the one to save him from Lucius Malfoy's wrath.  
  
Hermione's hand shot into the air. Professor Leurre called on her. "Yes, Miss Granger?"  
  
"What exactly did the first house-elf do to receive this kind of punishment?"  
  
"Excellent question," Professor Leurre said. "According to legend, the house-elf tried to become immortal by feeding off of the wizarding family. So from then on, he had to serve the family to repay them for the pain he had caused."  
  
"And who decided this punishment?" Hermione asked. "Because it all seems rather unfair to me."  
  
"Big surprise," Malfoy spat. "Stupid Mudblood, asking stupid questions."  
  
"Watch your mouth, Mr. Malfoy," Professor Leurre scolded. "Ten points from Slytherin."  
  
"Ten points well worth it," Malfoy muttered. But the professor didn't hear him. Ron, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to launch himself across the room and beat Malfoy into a pulp.  
  
"Actually, the house-elf decided the punishment with the spell he was using. Ancient magic works in mysterious ways. I know this is all very confusing and hard for you all to understand, but there is a certain balance that magic achieves. The house-elf used the family, so in return, the family used the house-elf."  
  
"So just because one house-elf made a mistake, the rest of the race has to suffer for eternity?" Hermione interrupted.  
  
Harry thought Professor Leurre would be upset with Hermione, but she smiled with that same spark in her eye she'd had before. "Who said it was for an eternity?" she questioned coyly. "However, it has always been in the house-elves' nature to serve others. Now, as much as you'd like to discuss the mistreatment of house-elves, I'm not going to allow you to do it during my class time. I'm lecturing on ancient magic, not house-elf history."  
  
But before she could continue, the bell rang signalling the end of class. She sighed. "Next time we'll be discussing a little bit about chapter seven and a lot about ancient magic. Class dismissed."  
  
Most of the class jumped out of their seats and headed towards the doorway, but Hermione had stayed behind. She looked as though she were going to ask some more questions about house-elves.  
  
Harry wondered if Hermione knew of this clan of free house-elves in London. Professor Leurre seemed to be rather knowledgeable about the subject; perhaps she had heard of them too. He considered staying behind and asking, but he could tell that Hermione's mind was on the S.P.E.W., and he wanted to steer clear of that conversation if at all possible.  
  
Professor Leurre was fussing with a jar of toads she'd used for a demonstration. As Harry and Ron walked by her desk, one of them jumped from its open jar and hopped along the floor. Professor Leurre tried to pick it up, but she nearly dropped the jars she was holding. Harry quickly bent over and tried to catch the frog. He got it by the hind legs but it hopped away. He took another step forward and caught it with both hands.  
"I've got it," Harry said. He gave it back to Professor Leurre, who put it in a jar with a secured lid and added it to the other frogs on her desk.  
  
"Thanks, Harry," she said brightly. Harry saw that maybe she didn't look so much like McGonagall now that he was closer to her. Her expression was almost child-like. She had a twinkle in her eye that McGonagall only had when she spoke of Quidditch. "Oh, I think you dropped something," she said. She walked over to where Harry had caught the frog and picked up a small, grey orb.  
  
Harry gasped. It was Remus's Moon Guide.  
  
"Don't want to lose that, Potter," she said. "Keep it safe. Oh, the headmaster wants to see you in his office."  
  
What had happened? Why would Dumbledore want to see him? "I... okay..."  
  
Professor Leurre took a step closer to him, her voice barely above a whisper. "The password is Ton-Tongue Toffee."  
  
He didn't know if he was more shocked because he'd actually been called to Dumbledore's office, or because the headmaster was a fan of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. Harry nodded and glanced wearily at Hermione and Ron. As they walked by Hermione, Ron grabbed her by the sleeve and hauled her outside into the corridor, which was now teeming with students. She looked like she would have rather bombarded Professor Leurre with questions about house-elves.  
  
"What was that all about?" Ron questioned.  
  
"That was really odd, Harry," Hermione agreed. "D'you think she really knew what it was?"  
  
Harry shrugged. They didn't know the whole story. "There's something I didn't tell you two. Not only does this show me the phases of the moon," he said quietly, "when I look into it, I can see where Remus is. I can see what he's doing."  
  
"So it's like a surveillance item?" Hermione questioned. "Incredible! It even works on Hogwarts grounds? It must be more than an enchanted object."  
  
"Wait, so you can spy on Lupin?" Ron asked.  
  
"As long as he's wearing this special chain around his neck," Harry replied. "He said that it was another gift from Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. I think it's a one-of-a-kind magical item."  
  
"Do you think she knew what it really was?" Hermione questioned.  
  
"Don't know. I've got to go," Harry said. "Professor Leurre said that Dumbledore wants to see me in his office straight away."  
  
"What for?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "I've no clue. I hope it's not something serious."  
  
"Pacificous Totalus"  
  
Ron suddenly became rigid, then keeled over gracelessly and landed face-first on the floor. In a flash Harry drew his wand and span round to see Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle holding onto the wall and howling with laughter.  
  
He raised his wand and prepared to cast his jinx at Malfoy  
  
"POTTER!"  
  
Harry stopped mid-curse. It was Filch, accompanied by his detestable cat, Mrs Norris. Almost at once a crowd began to gather around the scene, attracted by his shout. He wheezed his way along the bustling corridor. Apart from Snape, Filch was the one thing Harry had not missed during the school break. He hated everything about him, from his greasy shoulder length hair, his bulging eyes, quivering jowls, to his kwik spell magic course in his office. Filch hated Harry back, just as much.  
  
"Oh yerse, caught you red-handed, haven't we" he announced triumphantly. "Practising magic in the corridors with your disgusting little friends"  
  
"But" began Harry, but Filch carried on, overcome with his apparent good fortune  
  
"You boys, you saw him do it, didn't you?" he asked, looking at Malfoy, who had managed to stop laughing.  
  
"Yes Mr Filch" drawled Malfoy "we saw him, didn't we". Crabbe and Goyle nodded.  
  
"Pity Madam Umbridge isn't here, yerse pity," said Filch glumly. "Still, Dumbledore will have to do. Follow me"  
  
"But it wasn't him" said Hermione.  
  
"I've got witness young lady" replied Filch, who clearly wasn't interested in anyone else's version of events. "Now move along, all of you"  
  
"You" he snapped, looking at Hermione. "You'd better get him off to the hospital wing"  
  
Malfoy and his cronies quickly slunk out of sight and the crowd began to disperse. Filch grabbed Harry by the arm and led him through the castle to the statue of a stone gargoyle, planted at the entrance to Dumbledore's office. He walked up to the wall and said, "Ton-tongue toffee." The statue rolled away and revealed a spiral staircase which Harry and Filch ascended to Dumbledore's office.  
  
When they reached the doorway, Filch knocked forcefully on the oak door. "Come in," Dumbledore called.  
  
Harry opened the door and they stepped inside the circular office. Behind Dumbledore's desk was the ancient sorting hat, and next to it, glinting in the autumn sunlight hung Godric Gryffindor's silver sword, with it's ruby encrusted hilt; the same sword that Harry had used in his second year to defeat the Basilisk.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore" pronounced Filch "I've caught Potter using magic in the corridors"  
  
"I see" said Dumbledore gravely. "Thank you Mr Filch. I shall deal with this matter myself. You may return to your duties."  
  
Filch walked backwards towards the door and bowed himself out, shooting a malicous look at Harry as he did.  
  
"It was Malfoy. He used the body bind curse on Ron. I didn't get a chance to curse him before Filch turned up". Harry explained in a rush.  
  
He glanced around at the portraits of previous headmasters hung on the walls. Some were sleeping, but oddly enough, Harry noticed that most of them were quietly watching him  
  
"Don't mind them," Dumbledore announced. He gestured to the chair in front of his office. "Have a seat, Harry "  
  
Harry was a little apprehensive as he sat down. He was afraid to meet Dumbledore's eyes, but when he finally did look the old man in the face, he was relieved to see a smile.  
  
"I am not interested in spending time pondering Mr Filch's accusations" Dumbledore said in a wheezy voice. "If I did, I would do very little else. No doubt Miss Granger knows the counter curse to free Mr Wealsey"  
  
"Professor Leurre said you wanted to see me, sir" said Harry, feeling a little less nervous now,  
  
"Yes, Harry. Don't be alarmed. I just thought it would be a good idea for the two of us to have a little chat." He folded his hands together on the desktop. "I understand that you've been busy with Occlumency lately."  
  
Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."  
  
"I realise that you and Professor Snape have had your share of differences, and I truly appreciate your patience. However, I must stress the importance of you recording all of your dreams down in the diary."  
  
Harry was concentrating on the grain of Dumbledore's desk. "Yes, sir."  
  
"The Order has decided that you play an indispensable role in our defence."  
  
Indispensable? Harry was confused. "I'm afraid I don't understand."  
  
"Once you learn to control these... visions, as you call them, you will prove to be invaluable. You are our weapon, Harry." When Harry still looked puzzled, he continued. "Not only are you the key to Voldemort's demise, but you share the same sight. Though this sight is a burden, it gives an advantage to our side. That is why we are having you record your dreams, and also why we want to set up a few meetings for you with the Order."  
  
"Meetings?"  
  
Professor Dumbledore nodded. "The first one will be to discuss the vision involving the Death Eaters escape." Harry's heart blazed inside. "The Order will choose a time and place for this meeting, and we will set up some transportation for you to meet with them."  
  
"You mean I'm going to leave Hogwarts?"  
  
"Only at night, I assure you," Dumbledore replied. "I wish that these meetings could take place on the grounds, but the fact remains that it would be entirely suspicious to watching eyes if all of the members suddenly showed up in my office. It would not be safe. Which brings up something else I should share with you."  
  
Harry didn't like the sound of that. He gulped.  
  
"Owls are not safe. The Order had a message intercepted only last week and we believe that Voldemort has been tracking us somehow. Please, do not give away vital information in your letters. Use code if at all possible. And finally, there is one last thing I wish to discuss with you. Just between the two of us."  
  
Harry winced. He hoped it didn't have anything to do with using a Fever Fudge Snackbox to get out of Charms a few days before. But when he looked up at Dumbledore, he was smiling.  
  
"I wonder, Harry, when you are planning to resurrect my army?"  
  
Harry's jaw dropped. He didn't know what to say.  
  
"Everyone in the Order was very impressed with D.A. last year. We agreed that you need to put all of your emotions - all of your anger - into something productive. Continuing to teach Defence of the Dark Arts to your peers would be a very healthy outlet."  
  
"I... sir... but you see..." Harry stuttered. How could explain to Dumbledore that he didn't want the responsibility of endangering the lives of his friends?  
  
However, the headmaster seemed to understand his thinking. "Harry, you are not putting them into mortal peril. You are preparing them for the final battle. This nonsense about responsibility just will not do. You must continue with the meetings."  
  
Harry was still in shock, but part of him was wondering where he'd find the time for D.A. Between Occlumency and Quidditch starting and his own studies, he barely had time to breathe. "But Professor..."  
  
"Harry, you are a minor, and as a minor you are too young to join the Order of the Phoenix. However, that doesn't mean you can't make a difference."  
  
Dumbledore was right. Harry was being too cautious. He was behaving like a coward about D.A. He was in Gryffindor wasn't he? He would just have to be brave and take the plunge again. They needed to learn. They needed to know how to protect themselves.  
"Yes, sir," Harry replied. "I'll spread the word."  
  
"Good." Dumbledore's blue eyes were twinkling as he stroked his long white beard. "There are a lot of people who care about you, Harry. Myself included. Please, don't hesitate to stop by if anything is on your mind."  
  
"I won't sir," Harry said. "Thanks." He stood up from his seat and headed towards the exit.  
  
"Oh, and Harry," Dumbledore said, "I'm sorry about Quidditch Captain, but I'm afraid there was no way around it. Professor Snape was a stickler for the rulebook. But there's always next year," he added hopefully.  
  
Snape. Harry's hands coiled into fists at his side. So he was behind it all.  
  
Ron was livid at Malfoy's ambush and swore revenge at the earliest opportunity. This irritated Hermione who kept nagging at him not to do anything that he'd regret later. Ron's reply was that he'd never regret doing anything nasty to Malfoy, and this annoyed her even more.  
  
The next weekend couldn't arrive soon enough for Harry. Not only was it a break from his classes, but it also meant the beginning of Quidditch. Harry was actually anxious for their first practice as a new team when he woke up on Saturday morning. Ron had finally calmed down and booked the Pitch for a few hours after dinner that night so that they could warm up. The two of them had spent most of the day going through Oliver Wood's old playbook, which had been passed down from Angelina.  
  
Even though Harry wasn't the captain, he couldn't help but feel a certain right of passage as he and Ron stepped into the locker room, armed with their brooms and ideas for gruelling practices. They were the oldest players on the team, and Harry was the most experienced.  
  
Ginny had made her Chaser position, along with a girl in third year, Natalie MacDonald. The third chaser was Vicki Frobisher, who had tried out for the team the year before, but had said that Charms Club would have taken priority over Quidditch. She was still a pretty good flier, and she had since rearranged her priorities. The two beaters who had taken Fred and George's place last year, Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper, had also proved to be the best beaters at the tryouts.  
  
Ron stood at the chalkboard where there was a drawn outline of the Quidditch field. He cleared his throat. "All right everybody," he began, "I know that we're a young team this year, but that didn't stop us from winning the Cup last year, and I have no doubt that if we work hard, we'll be taking it again this year.  
  
"Our biggest opposition will not be Slytherin," he declared. "I believe that Ravenclaw will prove to be the team to beat. It's Chang's last year, and as captain and seeker..."  
And my ex-girlfriend, Harry thought.  
  
"She will be out for blood. I had to fight her to book the field for tonight," he added. "We've only got a few hours, so I think it would be best if we run a few drills and get reacquainted with our brooms from the off-season."  
  
After a few more encouraging words form Ron, the Gryffindor house team stepped out onto the Quidditch Pitch. The sun was setting in the west, casting long, hoop-shaped shadows onto the grassy field. It felt good to be back in the air. Harry could almost picture the Pitch full of spectators and hear Lee Jordan commentating. He wondered who would be commenting during the games now.  
  
Ron gave them a gruelling warm-up. Harry was almost dizzy from the diving and twirling. Afterwards, the balls were released. The Quaffle, Bludgers, and Snitch soared into the air. Harry brought his hand to his sweaty forehead to shade his green eyes from the sun as the golden Snitch disappeared from his sight.  
  
He took the opportunity to look down on his fellow team-mates. Ron appeared to have the confidence of a veteran player as he guarded the hoops from Ginny's advances. However, a few of her hits managed to get through. Natalie and Vicki were not as successful, though. Andrew and Jack were having some problems with the Bludgers, but by the end of practice, they seemed to have their game more under control.  
  
By the time they hit the showers, Harry was exhausted. He stumbled back to Gryffindor Tower, wishing he could just fly up to his dormitory on his broom.  
  
He noticed that the moon was full. His Moon Guide had been growing darker and darker ever since Professor Leurre had asked him about it. Harry felt a desire to look into the small orb, to make sure that Remus was okay, but he was also afraid of what kind of horror he might see.  
  
After some mindless chatter with Hermione and Ginny, Harry and Ron both turned in at the same time. Harry's muscles were heavily fatigued and he had to walk off a leg cramp before he finally fell into bed and slept.  
  
But he found no relief in his sleep. Suddenly, he was Inside the Department of Mysteries again, as he had been in the dreams that haunted him over the summers. However, this dream was different. He was on stage in the amphitheatre, where the curtains were drawn back. He could hear whispering coming from the veil.  
  
Subconsciously, he knew he was only dreaming. He could see himself as though he was outside of the dream, looking down on the boy - no, the young man - on centre stage. The young man with wild dark hair that stood up in the back. The young man with deep green eyes, sparkling behind an old pair of glasses. The young man with the lightening bolt scar on his forehead.  
  
"Dance," commanded a voice. It boomed throughout the theatre, reverberating off the walls.  
  
Dance? Harry thought. There was no music.  
  
Clear as day, a violin and cello began a distant duet, sweet music filling the theatre. It was a song Harry had heard before. It had an eerie melody. The violin was playing low, throaty notes, and the cello was high, past its normal range. They had switched roles.  
  
"Dance."  
  
Dance? Harry questioned again. But he had no partner.  
  
A phantom shadow of a woman appeared. He could see through the smoky figure. He couldn't make out any distinguishable features, but he could feel someone feminine beside him. He could smell her scent, gentle, yet fierce in its presence. It was a contradiction in one unmistakable scent that penetrated his nostrils.  
  
"Dance!" The voice was more desperate than commanding.  
  
Dance? Harry asked. But he didn't know how.  
  
Suddenly, her scent was all over him. He felt her small body against his, her arms around him. His feet began moving to the slow ballad of the violin and cello. He could feel the music permeate through his feet, as though he was above a noisy party and sharing a dance with a beautiful woman.  
  
And the Harry that was removed watched as he danced with this phantom girl. They were graceful together, never missing a step. It had not been like this at the Yule Ball where he was awkward and unpleasant. There was no leader or follower. It was like dancing with a reflection. Every way was the right direction.  
  
But it was troubling. The music was harder to hear. The voices beyond the veil were getting louder and louder. Harry had a hard time distinguishing the eerie melody from the ghostly mumbling.  
  
The shadow of the woman was slipping away. Her taste was gone, her scent fading. Harry's leg began to hurt from the dancing.  
  
"DANCE!" the voice cried. It sounded as though it had come from the veil. As though someone was weeping. And then Harry recognised the voice - how could he have missed it before? It was Sirius. Sirius had been shouting at him from beyond the veil, from inside the theatre. Sirius was weeping.  
  
Harry let go of the figure of the woman. The pain in his leg was growing. "Sirius!" he cried. But he couldn't hear his voice over the shouts of the other people behind the veil. "Sirius!"  
  
"Dance," Sirius whispered. The others' voices suddenly died out into the silence. "Dance, Harry, before you forget how."  
  
And the Harry who had watched all of the events unfold, like an omniscient narrator, watched himself collapse on the stage, his body slamming against the hardwood floor. His legs had given out, and the last thing he saw was the dark ceiling of the theatre, an entire galaxy of stars sparkling down on him, the a full moon glowing in the darkness.  
  
Suddenly, Harry was on his bed, clutching his calf. He gasped in pain, then quickly stood up. He groaned as he paced back and forth along the dormitory floor.  
  
"All right, Harry?" Ron asked sleepily, rolling over in his four-poster.  
  
"Yeah, leg cramp," he replied. But Ron had already fallen back to sleep.  
  
The sharp pain eventually went away, but Harry's leg was still tender every time he flexed it. He sat down on the edge of his bed, wide awake, and not entirely sure what to do.  
  
It had been a dream, but it was not a vision of the present. Voldemort hadn't been there. It was just another dream about Sirius. Surely, he wouldn't need to write about it in the diary. The thought of Mrs. Weasley reading about the amphitheatre and the dance was enough to make his insides churn. She would only feel sorry for him. Or worse, what if Snape had the other copy of the diary? Harry shuddered to think what Snape would do if he knew about the dreams Harry had been having about Sirius. No, it would be best for Harry just to keep this to himself.  
  
He lay back down on his bed, wondering if he should conjure up some sort of comforting spell for his calf, and trying his best to ignore the tingling of his scar.  
  
It was the first Quidditch match of the season and it looked as though it would be a perfect day. Harry knew it the moment he opened the curtains around his bed and stared out at the blue, cloudless sky through the window. The queasy feeling in his stomach was back again. It always returned every year, just before the opening match. Resolution gripped him as he began to dress for breakfast. His dorm mates were restlessly stirring, but none of them were awake yet. Harry glanced around at the familiar surroundings. Scarlet and gold on his robes, on his badge. Quidditch players zooming over the posters on their walls, disrupted only by Dean's picture of the West Ham football team. Harry decided not to wake Ron before slipping down the steps to the common room. He could never have explained this inner sense of conviction even to his best friend. There was no logical reason for it, but he had never been, strictly speaking, logical. And that morning, he knew what he had to accomplish.  
"Harry?"  
Harry jumped. It was a sign of how distracted he was that he hadn't noticed her sitting there until she spoke to him. Usually, he could pick out Hermione the moment he entered any room in which she happened to be, but he was almost to the portrait of the Fat Lady before her voice stopped him. He turned around, struggling to hide this sense of purpose from her, as he indifferently replied, "Yeah?"  
Hermione stood from her chair by the fire. She was already decked out in full Gryffindor regalia. In some ways seeing her like that added to the stress of the game; if they lost, the team wouldn't be the only ones disappointed "Er...would you like some company?" she asked. He shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"  
Harry held the portrait open for Hermione to pass through first. He saw her shoot him an anxious little look as she passed him, and he gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. It must have worked, because she smiled shyly back at him.  
As they descended the multiple flights of stairs that would lead them to the Great Hall Harry nerves began to ebb away. He found he could even eat when they got to the Great Hall. Perhaps his normal appetite wasn't back in full force, but he didn't choke on every bite. Ron joined them a few minutes later, joking about his ability.  
One by one, the team filed in. Ginny stared anxiously at him from all the way across the table. Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper shuffled into the noisy, boisterous room looking like they wanted to disappear into the floor. They didn't speak a word to anyone, not even each other. Harry understood how they felt, but, he didn't share their bleak outlook. They were going to win.  
Ron looked across the room to the Ravenclaw table. He saw Cho Chang, Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, and his resolve weakened a bit. Cho was in her seventh and final year, an excellent Quidditch player, one of the most popular girls in school.  
Ron returned his attention to his own table and the girl sitting next to him. Hermione flushed under his scrutiny, stopping with her spoon halfway to her mouth to look at him. "What?" she asked, discomfited.  
Ron searched his mind for a plausible answer. Harry looked up from his own breakfast to stare at them, and Ron felt his ears start to burn. "Nothing," he mumbled, turning away.  
"I know what it is, Hermione!" Seamus Finnigan snickered from a few seats away. "Ron wants a kiss for luck."  
Ron's whole face turned scarlet as all those near enough to hear started chuckling at Seamus' joke. Ron noticed even his own little sister joined in. So much for Weasley solidarity. He couldn't look at Hermione. He wanted to kill Seamus. "Sod off," he gritted out to his former friend.  
"Leave him alone, Seamus."  
Harry's voice made all the laughter stop. Seamus instantly turned back to his conversation with Dean. Ron had never been so glad to have Harry as his best mate.  
Deciding breakfast was going to undermine all the confidence with which he had awakened if it continued any longer, Ron pushed his plate aside and rose. He glanced across the table at Harry, still carefully avoiding Hermione's eyes. "Ready?"  
Harry met his stare grimly. "Yeah, let's go."  
They marched out of the Great Hall, steadfastly ignoring the Slytherin table as they passed. Harry had barely turned the corner when he heard footsteps careening after him. He turned around, expecting Hermione to have followed them.  
"Luna!" He barely withheld his laughter at the sight of the small, strange, blonde girl nearly lost under the giant eagle hat. There was also a very small part of him that was sorry she wasn't wearing the lion. "How are you?"  
Luna stared up at him with her dreamy, distant eyes, and he wondered if she had followed him without knowing it. It wasn't out of the question with Loony Lovegood. "Oh, good luck, Harry," she said eventually, in that vague way of hers.  
"Er...thanks," he replied, eager to get away from her. He needed to get down to the pitch. "Anyway, I..." He gestured behind him to indicate his need to leave, but if Luna noticed, she didn't seem to care.  
"I'm supporting Ravenclaw, you know," she went on. "I'm a Ravenclaw, so I really believe I should." Luna paused suddenly, looking up at him with those bulging, bright eyes, as if she expected him to confirm she was doing the right thing.  
Harry looked both ways for an escape. "Er, well, right. Of course you would support your own house."  
Luna smiled and nodded vigorously. "That's what I thought. So I'm cheering for Ravenclaw."  
"Do you still support Chudley Cannons Harry?" asked Luna Harry nodded.  
"I heard from Daddy why the Chudley Cannons haven't won a championship in ages,' Luna went on. 'Of course, they wouldn't have. They were under an Imperius Curse by Cornelius Fudge. He got tired of assassinating goblins and decided to rig Quidditch matches.'  
  
Merlin H Pendragon, she is completely barking mad, Ron thought.  
  
Harry nodded and smiled fearfully. 'Right,' he said."It's really incredible,' said Luna breezily. 'Fudge had a whole underground Quidditch gambling ring. Very sinister, and totally illegal."  
"Yeah. That makes sense" Ron released an exasperated sigh. The longest most pointless conversations of their lives was going to be spent with this girl, it seemed. "Look, Luna, we really need to go."  
Her eyes widened - something Harry wasn't sure was even possible until then. "Don't you think you should have thought of that before you left your dormitory? You know, there are some charms you can do that free you from having to"  
"Hey, Luna, mind if I talk to the boys for a moment?" With no further introduction than that, Hermione Granger swooped upon them and dragged the pair out through the front doors of Hogwarts.  
Harry barely had time to decipher Luna's cloudy meaning and register Hermione's rather irritated state before he was outside under those promising blue skies. "Thank you!" he exclaimed, before Hermione had a chance to say a single word.  
"I thought we'd never get away from her." Added Ron Hermione looked slightly mollified at Ron's reaction. She gave him a searching look, but what she was looking for, Harry had no idea. "Luna just doesn't understand the way certain things are," she replied cryptically.  
"Huh?" Ron still felt about three steps behind the conversation.  
"Never mind." Hermione waved the subject away. "You have more important things to worry about...not that you need to worry, of course," she rambled on, flushing. "I just meant...well, you know what I meant. I...good luck."  
"Thanks, Hermione," he managed, though his voice was starting to squeak Hermione nodded her head and was turning to the doors when Ron reached out and grabbed her arm. "Hermione, I just want you to know...I'm going to win this game."  
She stared up at him for a long time, her brown eyes searching deeply into his expression. Ron found himself straightening to his full height, and the kind of cold focus that came upon him every time he played chess was upon him now. Hermione must have seen it too, because she nodded. "Okay then."  
And that was all there was. Hermione went back to the Great Hall to wait for the game to start, and Harry & Ron walked the rest of the way to the pitch by themselves.   
Ron's pre-game pep talk had been a blur to Harry. He had barely listened as Colin Creavy introduced the teams. The whole Gryffindor crowd, however, seemed more excited than usual before a Quidditch match; they were expecting Ravenclaw to be crushed. Ron & Cho shook hands, as Gryffindors and Ravenclaws lined up across from each other. Ron zoomed to his goals as fast as he could, a look of keen purpose on his face. Madame Hooch blew her whistle and the game began.  
Ron never let his eye move from the Quaffle. He imagined it was Malfoy's head; he was going to clobber it.  
Ravenclaw had won the first race for it, due to the chasers longer arms. He swerved away from Ginny's outstretched hands. He dodged past Katie and Alicia. And then, he was coming to the goalposts. Harry saw Ron panic. He saw the look of confidence on Anthony's face, not a doubt of his ability to get the Quaffle through the hoop. Before Goldstien had even thrown, Ron had psyched himself out of the grab for it. His self-assurance, that morning so unstoppable, crumbled in an instant. The Quaffle went soaring through the left most hoop.  
Ravenclaw scored.  
Gryffindor had possession. Harry watched Ginny head straight for the Ravenclaw goal, Quaffle firmly in place. A Bludger went roaring at her, misdirected by Sloper, and caused her to lose control. Harry cursed at the Beater's ineptitude. If only Fred and George were there.  
And in that instant a thought hit Harry out of the blue: Sirius. He watched the game with only half his attention, as the Chasers and Beaters flew back and forth across the field, no one staying in possession for long. The rest of his mind was running over the past. The time Sirius had watched him, transformed into that big, black dog.  
Sure, maybe in the grand scheme of things, a Quidditch match wasn't as important as the fight against evil. But if Harry was ever going to amount to anything, he needed to get control of himself. He couldn't spend his life sitting around being miserable while the world went on around him.  
Bradley had made a breakaway with the Quaffle. No Beaters, Chasers, or Bludgers stood between him and the goal posts. Nothing was blocking him, except for Ron.  
You can do it Ron! He thought to himself silently.  
Bradley started to veer to Ron's right, but Ron didn't follow. He went left, just as Bradley released the Quaffle in what was supposed to be a surprise attack. Ron made an amazing save. An enormous roar rose up from the Gryffindor side. The Slytherins were suddenly tensely silent.  
Ron flung the ball as far as he could, directly into Ginny's waiting arms. The moment she had the Quaffle in her hands, she sprung into action, racing down the pitch. Before the Ravenclaws had recovered, she had reached their goalposts and tossed the Quaffle through.  
"GRYFFINDOR SCORES!!!!" Colin Creavy's amplified voice rose above the crowd.  
Harry felt his heart thumping wildly in his chest. The game was on. He looked up to Cho Chang circling the pitch, eyes roving for the Golden Snitch.  
Time for some fun thought Harry to himself. He'd been dying to try the Wronski Feint, remembering how Victor Krum did it at the World Cup.  
He shot past Cho, circled her, as if chasing the snitch, then headed straight for the ground. Cho followed, flat out on her broom.  
"HARRY POTTER HAS SEEN THE SNITCH" The crowd's attention turned to watch Harry pull sharply out of the dive, and Cho plummet straight into the mud.  
Cheers from the Gryffindor end were met with boos from the Ravenclaw's. A brief time out was called so that Cho could regain her composure and continue. Like Krum had done, Harry used the time to search for the snitch.  
Madam Hooch's whistle brought his attention back; the game was back on. Ravenclaw had possession The whistle blew again. A penalty for Ravenclaw this time Harry muttered under his breath again at the inept beaters. Andrew probably hadn't even meant to lock brooms with Goldstien. He was simply unfit to be on a broomstick in the first place. The Ravenclaw chaser was lining up for a penalty, and once again, it was all on Ron to stop him. The entire stadium seemed to stop breathing. Dead silence reigned as he charged, zigzagging towards the Gryffindor scoring area. Ron went into a double eight loop around the hoops, the wind rushing past him as he forced his Cleansweep to its highest speed. Ron barrelled to the centre post and caught the Quaffle a foot from the goal. The scarlet and gold section of the crowd went wild, and the game went on.  
After this attempt, Ravenclaw seemed to realise they were going to have to play serious Quidditch after all. The Gryffindor team was at strength, even without their former star players. They recovered their familiar synchronicity. Harry was a distant blur as he scoured the field for the elusive Snitch.  
But the team still had a weak link. Two of them, in fact. Not all the enthusiasm in the world could hide the fact that Kirke and Sloper were horrible Beaters. Half of Gryffindors scoring opportunities were lost due to their mistakes. Ravenclaw was awarded penalty after penalty, thanks to them.  
Yet somehow, Ron only seemed to grow more impenetrable with each attempt at his goals. For they were his now, and no one would have access to them without his say so. He would guard them as though Harry, Hermione, and Ginny were lined up behind him with a dozen Death Eaters approaching. "I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Colin screamed, all his boundless energy back in full force, as Ron blocked the seventh penalty shot. "WEASLEY EXECUTES A PERFECT STARFISH AND STICK. NO GOAL! YOU'RE MAKING YOUR BROTHERS PROUD, RON!"  
Ron beamed, hearing the compliment from the sky. He watched as Andrew tried to hit a Bludger at the Ravenclaw chaser; It missed by at least ten yards. Sudden inspiration struck Ron, and he called a time-out.  
The team gathered around the Gryffindor goalposts. "What's up, Ron?"  
"I had a thought. No offence, guys," nodding at Jack and Andrew, "but you're having a bit of trouble with your accuracy. What if, instead of trying to follow the Bludgers, you follow the Chasers instead?"  
Ginny frowned in annoyance. Harry could see what she was thinking. The last thing she wanted was the two clumsy beaters in her way. "I don't see how that's a solution, Ron."  
"But it is," he continued, his gift for strategy becoming more apparent. "They need to stay with you when you have the Quaffle, so that the Bludgers don't have access to you. The Ravenclaw Beaters are killing us. We've only scored twice, but we would be fifty points up if it weren't for their attacks. You guys are getting slaughtered." He gestured to Katie's bloody lip and splintered nose. "So if Andrew and Jack flew closer to you--not close enough for their bats to come in contact with you..." He glowered at the other two men on the team. "But close enough to guard you--they could at least take some of the impact away from the Chasers."  
"It's a good plan," Harry spoke up. While Ginny and the other Chasers were deliberating, a noise began to rise from the crowd. Weasley is our King,  
Weasley is our King,  
He never lets the Quaffle in,  
Weasley is our King.  
Colour rose in Ron's face again. He looked down at the Gryffindor stands, where Parvati Patil was leading the rendition "Don't let it your head too much, or you'll never get off the ground" Ginny growled, as she turned away from Katie and Alicia to face the rest of the team again. "If this plan of yours fails, I'll personally take Jack's bat to your head."  
Ron wasn't all that sure she was joking.  
Ron once again signalled Madam Hooch, and the game continued, with Andrew and Jack keeping a close eye on all the Gryffindor Chasers. The effects of this were seen almost immediately in the absence of further Gryffindor fouls. Ron found the pressure was actually off him a bit, as Ginny, Bell, and Frobisher did the kind of Chasing that had made them the best team Hogwarts had seen in many years. The scoreboard never stopped ringing.  
"FROBISHERS'S GOT THE QUAFFLE! SHE'S SOARING. OOH, BLUDGER COMING AT HER," Colin yelled, as if everyone in the crowd didn't have eyes to see it anyway. "YES!!!! SLOPER THROWS HIMSELF IN FRONT OF HER. GONNA LEAVE A NASTY BRUISE, BUT DAMN, IT'S GREAT TO SEE HE'S GOOD FOR SOMETHING."  
"FROBISHER'S RAISING HER ARM TO THROW...NO! SHE'S DROPPED THE QUAFFLE DOWN TO WEASLEY! SHE SHOOTS AND SCORES!!!!"  
Harry cheered with the rest of his House as the Chasers completed a successful Porskoff Ploy. He hazarded a glance at the scoreboard. Ninety to ten, Gryffindor in the lead. Amazing, but it didn't solve everything. If he didn't catch the Snitch, Ravenclaw could still win.  
Bradley had grabbed the Quaffle. Andrew and Jack weren't even bothering to follow him. They seemed to realise they would accomplish nothing. Ginny sailed up beside him, trying to knock the ball away, but he merely urged himself forward towards the Gryffindor goals.  
Ron tensed, ready to spring into action. Bradley soared high then dived suddenly, plunging far below the hoops, and tossing the Quaffle across as he passed, tilting it to the right. Ron lunged, removing both hands from his broom and jumping so far, he was almost convinced he was going to plummet off the Cleansweep, but the ball was secure. The Gryffindors went wild.  
Harry was watching Ron, when a sudden flash of gold caught his eye. He flew straight towards the Ravenclaw end, urging the firebolt on. His arm stretched out and wrapped around something small and bright and golden...and fluttering not five feet from Cho.  
"HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS!!!!!"  
For a moment Harry hung in mid air. Then, as he saw the rest of the team heading towards him. They toppled to the earth in the midst of their team-mates.  
"We did it" Ron was yelling, patting Harry on the back.  
Then he turned his attention to his sister "Great shooting Ginny" he said, picking her up.  
"Ron, put me down!" Ginny giggled. Then, more seriously, "Ron, if you don't put me down this instant, I will hex you."  
Her request was obeyed immediately. He had been on the wrong side of her Bat-Bogey Hex one time too often. But it didn't matter. She was still grinning up at him, and the team was surrounding them, screaming and shouting.   
  
As the crowds slowly wound out of the stadium and Madame Hooch replaced the Quidditch balls in their box, the Gryffindor team members congratulated one another on their first victory this year. Harry, Ron and Ginny were jubilantly praising one another when a voice called out across the stadium.  
"Harry!" Luna Lovegood was hurrying across the Quidditch pitch toward them.  
"Well, see you later Harry," Ron said animatedly. He and Ginny hastened after the rest of the Gryffindor team, heading back to the common room to celebrate.  
"Harry, you played really well" she said happily as they walked toward a secluded part of the stands.  
"It was a good game," said Harry. "By the way, I love the hat."  
Luna looked particularly pleased by Harry's compliment.  
Madame Hooch had now left the pitch and the last of the spectators had now filed out of the stadium, leaving the two of them alone.  
"Er, so..." Harry began unsteadily.  
"Oh, for goodness sake," said Luna, "you boys don't know the first thing about attraction, do you?"  
"Er..."  
Luna laughed lightly and, Harry thought, a bit mockingly. He smiled at her.  
"Come on," said Luna.  
She led him out of the stadium, chatting animatedly about the highlights of the game, especially Harry's tricking of Cho into diving headfirst into the ground, thinking Harry had seen the Snitch.  
"Why are you pleased? She's in your house." asked Harry, bewildered, but not surprised. He was talking to Luna after all "Oh, no reason" Luna explained in her usual dreamy They settled under an oak tree, enjoying one of the last warm days of the year, chatting quietly as the sun went down. Luna was as odd as ever, but, Harry thought with a grin that he didn't mind her that way; she made him feel more comfortable to be himself.  
As the sun set and the night began to get cold, Harry and Luna got up and wandered slowly back toward the castle.  
  
The next morning at breakfast, Hedwig arrived with a letter for Harry, and a copy of The Daily Prohpet for Hermione.  
  
"About time too" she exclaimed reading the headlines, and then showing them to Harry. For once, The Daily Prophet reported some good news; aurors had captured half a dozen Death Eaters that had been planning to kidnap members of the Ministry of Magic special magical task force.  
  
Harry turned to his letter. He recognised the handwriting. It was from Remus. He waited until he was back in the common room before tearing it open and reading it.  
  
Dear Harry,  
How are you? I hope this letter finds you well. Tonight is the full moon, and I must say that I am anxious for it to pass.  
I had a great time at your birthday party. I hope that you have found my gift helpful in the loneliest of times. I know that I cannot physically be there for you, but I am always only a glimpse away. I hope you like the bike.  
I hope everything is fine at Hogwarts. Have you started Quidditch yet? You must be anxious to play after a year off. I also heard that you've started Remedial Potions again. I know it's difficult, but keep studying Harry. It will prove to be very helpful in the end.  
  
I look forward to hearing from you,  
  
Remus  
  
After Harry finished reading the letter, he resisted the urge to crumple it into a ball and throw it into the fireplace. Did Remus really think it would be that easy just to fill the void that Sirius had left? And now that Sirius's voice was so fresh in his memory from his dream the night before, he couldn't imagine running up to Gryffindor Tower every time something exciting happened to write a letter to Remus.  
  
There was no harm in writing a short letter so that Remus would have something to read after the full moon. Perhaps it would cheer him up a bit after his transformation. He found some spare parchment and a quill and quickly scratched out a letter. Harry said that he was fine, and that his first Remedial Potions lesson had gone very well. He ended by writing that they'd had their first Quidditch match the day before and that Ron, as captain, thought that they had a good chance at winning the Quidditch Cup.  
  
He glanced over at Ron, who looked half-asleep over his Herbology book. He was sharing a table with Neville and Ginny. Neville seemed to be beaming with the attention he was getting. Ginny had been having problems with her Herbology homework, and Ron and Neville were working on a project together. Harry wasn't sure if Ron could really make it through this year. It was going to be hard. Between Quidditch captain, Prefect, and six N.E.W.T. classes, he was going to have his work cut out for him.  
  
However, it was great to see Neville so happy. He seemed to have matured more over the summer. He was less clumsy, and he'd even managed to remember the Fat Lady's password, which he usually always forgot during the first few weeks. He had finally gained a little confidence.  
  
Harry felt a little envious of him. Neville could have had the same destiny as he did now, if Voldemort had chosen Neville instead of Harry in the prophecy. But honestly, he was glad that Neville was able to enjoy his life. After all, his parents were crazy and locked up in St. Mungo's, and he lived with his batty grandmother. If anyone deserved happiness, it was Neville.  
  
Ginny put her books away and stood up. "Thanks Neville, I think I've got it now. I'll see you later".  
  
Once she had gone, Harry looked around to see if anyone could here what he was about to ask.  
  
"Neville, I was wondering if you could tell me some things about wizarding culture."  
  
"What do you mean?" Neville asked, puzzled.  
  
"Well, the Potter family might have been Pure-bloods for all I know. . . ."  
  
"They were, although not one of the really famous families." Neville reminded himself of Harry's upbringing.  
  
"Anyway," Harry went on, "remember, I'm as Muggle-raised as anyone can get. I don't know much about the cultural ideas, except what I've picked up from you and Ron, or that Binns teaches us by accident."  
  
"True," Neville admitted. "What do you need to know?"  
  
"I need to know about wizarding debts" Harry replied "Dumbledore says that Snape owes me a debt because my father saved his life. Does that mean I owe you and the others for following me to save Sirius?" Harry didn't want to mention Wormtail to Neville yet.  
  
"Snape and your father disliked each other, right?" Neville asked.  
  
"They HATED each other," Harry replied.  
  
"Then Snape owes the debt because there were no other ties. In fact, he was saved by an enemy, which raises the debt. You inherit the debt, because that level, the highest, is for life unless Snape saves your life and you, as an adult, release him."  
  
"So Snape has to try and save my life until I'm an adult?"  
  
"And until you, as an adult, release him. Most would say that he would have to save you at least once as an adult before you should consider releasing him, but that's up to you. You never have to release him."  
  
Harry thought about that. "What about you lot, say Ginny for example?"  
  
"The same applies to a lesser degree, but it wouldn't be inherited, because of your ties with Ron. Plus, didn't you stay with the Weasleys before you saved Ginny?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Yeah, I did. They rescued me from the Dursleys the summer before."  
  
Neville pulled out a small pocket notebook and started scribbling. "But you and Ginny weren't friends yet, right?"  
  
"Right," Harry agreed.  
  
"Who rescued you?"  
  
"Fred, George, and Ron."  
  
"Did you give Fred and George your Triwizard money to start that joke shop?"  
"I did," Harry admitted. Neville had been one of the twins main victims; Harry hoped he didn't hold a grudge.  
  
Neville looked up from his notes after a few moments of study. "Then I'd say there was no wizard debt involved on either side, because of the closeness of you and the Weasleys. As for me, well, you're my friend, and, because of the DA if nothing else, you're something of a mentor. We owe each other our support, and no debts can really be transferred. Just like we don't owe Dumbledore an official debt for saving us at the end."  
  
Harry nodded again. "Thanks Neville."  
  
After finishing his letter and sealing it an envelope, Harry opened the portrait door to run up to the Owlery to deliver it to Hedwig.  
  
Harry opened the heavy door and went into the Owlery. The room reeked of hay and journeys to far away lands, and a little bit like owl droppings. There were skeletons of mice and moles near every cage.  
  
Hedwig stuck out like a bright white light against the dark feathers of the other owls, her head hidden beneath her snowy white feathers. She glanced at Harry as he approached her and pulled the letter out of his back pocket. She quickly stood at attention, waiting patiently for Harry to tie the letter around her claw. She ruffled her feathers a little to get Pigewidgeon's attention in the next nest. Apparently, she wanted to show him how it was done properly.  
  
Harry pet her gently. "Back to Remus. No hurry," he added. The later he got the letter, the later he would write back, and the later Harry would feel obligated to keep him informed of the events unfolding in his life.  
  
She nipped his fingers a bit and gave a soft hoot of acknowledgement, then took off out of the Owlery window.  
  
Occlumency was draining Harry. Every day he had it, after his classes were over, he would hurry to the library and try to finish all of his homework for the next day. He could barely make it back to the dormitory after Snape's invasion of his mind, let alone concentrate on his schoolwork.  
  
Flitwick had given the entire class extra homework for performing badly on an advanced summoning charm. Everyone but Hermione, of course. They had to do an extra essay about the art of the Peragro charm, which was summoning items through obstacles, like walls, without damaging the object or the obstacles themselves.  
He was running late as he sprinted down the dungeon stairs. He didn't even bother to catch his breath when he burst into the Potions classroom. Snape was already there, wand in hand, and waiting.  
  
"You're late, Potter," he snapped. "Five points from Gryffindor."  
  
"Sorry, sir," Harry replied, breathless.  
  
"Let's begin." Snape sneered at him, as though he were insulted by his apology. He raised his wand. "Legilimens!"  
  
Harry assumed the position, still trying to catch his breath. He pulled his wand from his robes and braced himself. He tried to clear his mind, but Snape hit with the spell and it was too late.  
  
He couldn't catch his breath. The familiar pain had returned to his leg. This time he was in the graveyard with Cedric. Running away, carrying his body, limping to the trophy. He reached out, grasped it, and felt something pull behind his navel.  
  
He was on the floor, Snape standing over him. "I am very disappointed, Potter. You are weak. Get up."  
  
Harry got to his feet, taking his breath in sharp inhalations. The pull of the Portkey had turned into a pain in his ribcage. Or was it because of Snape's spell? He hoped to regain his composure before Snape hit him again, but as soon as he reached his feet, Snape turned on him and pummelled him. "Legilimens!"  
  
The pain in his leg returned, and suddenly he was in the amphitheatre in the Department of Mysteries. It was his dream. He was dancing with the shadowy figure, and for a moment, felt comfort in her arms. But the security soon disappeared.  
  
"Dance," Sirius's voice called, "before you forget how."  
  
Whimpering, Harry called out for his godfather, then realised he was once again on his back on the cold, hard dungeon floor.  
  
Snape, however, did not have the look of complete triumph on his face that he usually did when he took Harry off his feet. He looked smug. "You didn't write that dream down, Potter."  
  
Harry jumped to his feet. So Snape knew of the first vision of Voldemort and Wormtail. Perhaps he did have the counterpart of his Diary Duplicator. "I... I didn't think it was important."  
  
"Important?" Snape spat. "I told you, Potter, to write down every damn thing that you dream about in that diary! I expect you to share everything about your dreams, whether they are about some invisible girl or your dearly departed loved ones."  
"It's not fair that everyone gets to see into my private thoughts. My private dreams," Harry replied. If Snape knew about his dreams, he didn't know how many others did.  
"It is a sacrifice for the Order, Potter," he declared. "In times like these, we must make sacrifices."  
  
Harry sighed. "Okay, okay. I'll write it down."  
  
"Don't bother with this one now," Snape replied. "He's dead. He is not worth dreaming about."  
  
Anger welled up inside of Harry. He took a step forward, about to launch himself at Snape.  
  
"Tsk, tsk, Potter. How will you ever master Occlumency if you cannot even control your own anger?"  
  
Harry's fists curled at his sides. He was shaking with hatred. How could Dumbledore expect him to study with a man who hated Sirius so much? A man who was probably overjoyed that the only parent Harry could even remember was dead?  
  
Snape could see the hesitation in Harry. "Good, Potter. It looks like some of my lessons may have been penetrating through that thick skull of yours."  
  
Harry couldn't get violent, but he had to defend Sirius's honour. If he didn't, he would never forgive himself. He couldn't let Snape walk all over him like this. He was too proud. "You will never be half the man that Sirius was," Harry spat.  
  
Snape's eyes were cold. He raised one greasy eyebrow in Harry's direction. "Odd, considering that he was only half a man himself."  
  
Harry's anger caught in his throat. He was boiling over. He had to leave - he had to get out of the dungeon. If he didn't, he would do something he would regret. He knew that Snape had taken it too far, and that in return, Harry wouldn't be able to control his actions. Harry took a step towards the door.  
  
"I'm done," Harry whispered. "I'm leaving."  
  
Snape sneered. "Quitting, Potter?"  
  
"For today," Harry replied. He put his wand back inside of his robes and didn't look back as he stepped out of the dungeon door. He just couldn't tolerate another second of Snape's hatred without ripping him apart with his bare hands. 


	4. Chapter 4

October  
  
The Indian summer had vanished from Hogwarts. The leaves began to change colours and fall from the trees, decorating the grounds in colourful beds of red, brown, yellow, and orange. Autumn had arrived.  
  
Classes seemed to be taking their toll on all of the students. Everyday, Harry was given more and more homework to complete. He barely had time to eat, let alone for Quidditch and Occlumency. He felt exhausted from all of his studying and was looking forward to the field trip on Halloween. It would be one night where he wouldn't have to worry about his homework or Snape seeing inside of his mind.  
  
And when he wasn't studying, he was sleeping. But his slumber was littered with dreams of the amphitheatre and Sirius's voice. He'd had the dream nearly every night. It was like he was stuck in a perpetual state of sub-consciousness. He had no clue who he was dancing with, but he didn't care. He was just trying to decipher his godfather's message.  
  
It was Wednesday, and Harry was having a good day. The very first meeting of the year of Dumbledore's Army was set to take place in the Room of Requirement that night. And also, because it was Wednesday, it meant that Mr. Weasley was visiting their Muggle Studies class. He always had such interesting stories. Their entire class had embraced Mr. Weasley, and those who had viewed him as a crackpot, obsessed with Muggles, were now treating him with respect. Ron wasn't the slightest bit embarrassed to have his father in class.  
  
"You know, mum always tells him he should write a book," Ron said as he and Harry walked down the first floor corridor. "She says it'd be a number one best-seller in no time."  
  
"Well, Lockhart did it," Harry replied. "Your dad shouldn't have a hard time."  
  
"Knowing Lockhart, he probably coerced somebody into writing it for him and then modified their memory after it was finished."  
  
They were a few minutes early and the first to arrive in Muggle Studies, the last lesson of the day. Professor Avis was sitting at her desk and Mr. Weasley was standing near the dry-erase board. He was drawing different coloured lines on the board in no specific pattern. "Oh, hello boys," Mr. Weasley greeted.  
  
"Dad, what are you drawing?" Ron asked.  
  
"Oh, we're going to talk a little bit about plumbing in today's lesson." He put the cap on his marker. "How's things?"  
  
"Fine," Ron replied. "How's mum?"  
  
"Good. She's about ready to strangle the twins, though," he added. "Zonko's finally agreed to drop the complaint, but now George and Fred want to give them an inquiry as well." He shook his head. "Those boys are too ambitious for their own good..."  
  
"Arthur! Are you there?"  
  
Suddenly, Amos Diggery, appeared in the classroom fireplace. Or rather, his head did.  
  
"Amos!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed and sprinted over to the fireplace. "Yes, I'm here. What's going on?"  
  
"We've got a problem," he replied. "I hate to interrupt your little talk, but this is an emergency. Henry Wilkens is at it again! This time, he opened up some sort of plant shop in London. It's called Henry's Herbs, over on Reynolds Boulevard. He opened it to the public - including Muggles."  
  
"Oh dear." Mr. Weasley ran a hand through his thinning red hair. "That Wilkens is always stirring up trouble for me."  
  
"That's not the worst of it. He's got a Muggle working for him. He claims that he thought she was a squib because she didn't use magic, but she knew the names of several wizarding plants. He's just saying that because he's knows that he'll be facing an inquiry to shut him down after this. Anyway, somehow, she ended up battling against a clump of Devil's Snare. Things got out of hand. Arthur, it doesn't look good. You've got to get over there and do some damage control. I've already called in the Obliviators, but it looks like we'll have to deal directly with the Muggle's family."  
  
"Oh dear. This isn't good. I'll be there right away, Amos."  
  
"Hurry, Arthur. There's no telling what will happen if some Muggle television station gets a hold of this. It could be a repeat of the Petrova incident all over again!"  
  
"Yes" Mr. Weasley said. Amos's head disappeared into the fire. "Is this hooked up to the Network?" he asked Professor Avis, gesturing to the fireplace.  
  
She nodded. "Just re-installed last week." She handed him a bowl, which Harry assumed was Floo Powder. "That Umbridge had it removed last year."  
  
"Just in time then." He turned to Ron and Harry. "Sorry to take off boys, but duty calls. I'll see you next week." With a nod and a handful of powder, he shouted, "Reynolds Boulevard, London!" and disappeared into the flames.  
  
Harry and Ron settled into their normal seats in the classroom. The rest of the students were piling inside, wondering where Mr. Weasley was.  
  
"Too bad about that emergency," Ron said sadly. "Plumbing is one of dad's favorite subjects."  
  
"Ah, Potter, that reminds me, the headmaster would like to see you." Said Professor Avis.  
  
'Again!' thought Harry. 'What's wrong now?'  
  
"Ton-Tongue Toffee" he said, to the Gargoyles hoping that the password to his office was the same as it had been a few weeks ago. The huge stone gargoyle twisted to reveal the staircase. Harry took the stairs two-by-two until he reached Dumbledore's office door. He knocked loudly on the oak door.  
  
"Come in."  
  
He pushed the door open and saw Fawkes sitting on his perch, preening his splendid red and gold plumage. Dumbledore stood next to Fawkes, stroking him with his long, thin fingers. His sweeping silver hair and beard had flecks of orange in them as weak late afternoon sun light caught them.  
  
"Please, Harry, have a seat." From somewhere, Dumbledore conjured up a chair. "There is a meeting of the order tonight. You will go to the Burrow where you will meet up with the rest of the Order to discuss your vision."  
  
"But I...I have things going on tonight," Harry said, turning to Dumbledore. Tonight was the very first D.A. meeting. Harry couldn't' cancel it.  
  
Dumbledore continued stroking his beard. "I can take care of those things," he replied. He sat up suddenly. "It's settled. I hope you won't mind?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
"No, sir," Harry said. "Should I go pack a bag?"  
  
Dumbledore shook his head. "No, you will not be spending the night. Harry was beginning to think that he had planned this. "Our first D.A. meeting was supposed to be tonight."  
  
"I'll alert Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley. I'm sure they'll spread the word." His eyes twinkled with delight. "So, you have reconsidered your teaching position?"  
  
Harry nodded. "I want them to be prepared more than anything."  
  
"Indeed," Dumbledore said, "everyone will need to prepare for what is to come."  
  
Harry had the distinct impression that Dumbledore was trying to warn him about something - to bring something to attention.  
  
Both Harry and Dumbledore stood up from their seats. He produced a sterling silver tennis bracelet from his desk drawer. "Once you touch this bracelet, you will be transported by this special Portkey to the Burrow." Dumbledore lifted the bracelet and held it out. "Are you ready?"  
  
Instantly, he could feel the familiar tug behind his belly button. Dumbledore and his office itself became blurry.  
  
When Harry arrived at the Burrow, dinner was already on the oak table and there were a dozen people gathered around it. Harry suspected the table had been bewitched, because it looked much bigger than usual.  
  
"Harry, dear!" Mrs. Weasley greeted. "It's so good to see you! Come in and have a seat. You must be starving." She ushered Harry in the door and took Mr. Weasley's coat after greeting him with a kiss.  
  
He was a little intimidated by most of the Order sitting in the Weasley's kitchen. Remus was there, and he stood up and gestured for Harry to take the empty seat next to him. "Good to see you, Harry," he said, giving him a hug. "Just got your letter the other day. Excellent result in that Quidditch game."  
  
Harry sat down. Somehow, his heart felt much lighter than usual. His feelings of envy towards Ron making captain seemed like they had taken place ages ago. He grinned at Remus. "Yeah not bad."  
  
"You're in a good mood, boy," Mad-Eye Moody growled from the opposite side of the table. Harry smiled.  
  
After helping Mrs. Weasley bring out the rest of the dinner, Mr. Weasley took a seat next to his wife at the head of the table. "I believe we're all here," he announced. "Let's eat!"  
  
But as Harry glanced around the table, he couldn't help but notice that a few people were missing. Dedalus Diggle was there, as well as Elphias Dodge, and Hestia Jones. Snape wasn't there, nor Dumbledore or McGonagall, which didn't surprise Harry. However, one very important person was missing.  
  
"Where's Tonks?" he asked casually.  
  
Remus choked on the chicken he was eating. "I beg your pardon?"  
  
Harry glanced around at the rest of the Order at the table. "Mr. Weasley said everybody was here. But Tonks isn't. Where's she?"  
  
"Harry, are you saying you haven't recognised her yet?"  
  
"Recognised her?" Harry questioned.  
  
Remus shook his head. "I should've known. Harry, she's your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."  
  
Harry dropped his fork. It clattered on the porcelain plate. All along Tonks had been in disguise as Professor Leurre? Harry had almost forgotten she was a Metamorphmagus.  
  
"But then... that means..." His voice trailed off.  
  
"That means she's been holding out on you," Remus replied. "She's probably been having a good laugh these past couple months." But somehow, Harry didn't find that in her nature.  
  
"How's her lessons coming?" Moody questioned. "She'd better be talking about constant vigilance. I tell you, there's no better lesson than that."  
  
Harry tried to hide his grin by wiping his mouth with his napkin. "We just started learning about ancient magic." He went back to his dinner, trying to recall what he'd learned earlier. "That reminds me, have any of you heard of a group of freed house-elves in London?" he asked casually.  
  
This time, it was Remus who stopped eating. "Where did you hear that?"  
  
Harry realised that every single pair of eyes at the table was staring at him. Apparently, this was classified information. Now he was going to get Dobby in trouble. "Er, well, Dobby happened to mention to me what he did over his summer vacation."  
  
"I'm going to split that house-elf's ears off!" Moody groaned from the other end of the table. "I knew he couldn't keep his mouth shut."  
  
"Oh, but it's not like that," Harry interrupted. "Dobby and I... we're friends."  
  
"You forget that Harry was the one who freed him, Mad Eye. Indirectly, of course," Mr. Weasley said. "That house-elf knows what's at stake."  
  
"What is at stake?" Harry questioned.  
  
No one answered.  
  
Once everyone was through eating and the empty dishes were cleared, the Order returned to the table. Harry felt like he was under a great amount of scrutiny. He wasn't quite sure what they expected of him.  
  
"Harry, do you know why we've called this meeting with you?" Remus asked.  
  
Harry nodded. "Because of the vision."  
  
"And there are a few other things that we need to discuss with you." Remus looked slightly uncomfortable. He looked like someone was forcing him into something he didn't want to do. "The first order of business has to do with your actions at the Ministry the night when... when Sirius died."  
  
Confused, Harry turned to look at the other members. They, too, wouldn't meet him in the eye.  
  
"I know I am in absolutely no position to lecture you," he mumbled. "However, we feel - I feel - that we should talk about what happened after he died. Do you remember?"  
  
Now it was Harry who wouldn't meet anyone's eyes. What a stupid question. He had been trying so hard to forget that night, but he'd relived it over and over so many times in his mind that he knew he could never simply not remember.  
His insides still churned when he thought of Bellatrix. Her icy laugh, her mocking voice.  
  
"Yes, I remember," he replied coldly.  
  
"Do you remember what you did right after? Right after Sirius had... Had slipped into the veil?"  
  
"Slipped?!" Harry cried. "You know that Bellatrix..."  
  
"When you chased her out into the atrium, do you recall what you did?"  
"Yes, of course I do," he snapped. "I wanted her to suffer. I wanted her dead. I pointed my wand at her and..."  
  
And now he realised what this whole lecture was about. He'd used one of the unforgivable curses. Unforgivable. Dumbledore had said that anyone caught using Dark Magic would be suspended immediately and taken away to the authorities  
  
"I'm not going to be expelled and thrown in Azkaban, am I?" he demanded angrily.  
  
Remus seemed to take his anger as a good sign. "No, no, of course not. It's just, well, it's our duty to warn you - to tell you. Harry, this is very important. I need you to understand this. We," he gestured around the table, "need to make sure that you understand."  
  
"Understand what?"  
  
"Under no circumstances can you ever, ever use dark magic." Remus turned to him, his dark eyes looking as fierce as Harry had ever seen them. "No matter who is killed, who is suffering. You cannot use an Unforgivable Curse against anyone in battle."  
  
"It brings you down to their level," Mad-Eye spoke up. "Dark Magic is what we are fighting against. It is not a tool at our disposal. We do not use it for offensive purposes. Ever."  
  
"Do you understand, Harry?"  
  
Ashamed, Harry sunk lower into his seat. His face was burning. He could feel everyone staring at him. He had to show them that he grasped what they were saying. "I understand," he replied. "No Dark Magic. Ever," he added.  
  
He had to admit that it had been a moment of weakness on his part. However, there was no doubt in his mind that if he had to relive that horrible night over again, he would do the same thing. There was such a rage inside of him - such utter hatred - that he knew he wouldn't be able to hold back.  
  
But if there was one thing Harry had to learn this year, besides all of his studies as a student at Hogwarts, it was to control his emotions. Besides, he thought bitterly, it didn't work.  
  
"It didn't work then, boy," Mad-Eye said suddenly. "But that doesn't mean it never will."  
  
Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. "Now that we've got that out of the way, we'd like to discuss your dreams."  
  
Harry should have been grateful for the change of subject, but the knots in his stomach only continued to grow. "Right... Well, they're not all dreams. I mean, I can tell when it's a dream - just a regular dream." He paused. "And I can tell when I'm looking through Voldemort's eyes." No one flinched at the Dark Lord's name. "Of course, it's not until it's too late. He knows when I'm there. I don't even realise that I'm him - I mean, that I'm looking through his eyes - until my scar starts hurting."  
  
He knew that this was old news to them. He'd written about the distinguishing the difference between a vision and dream in the diary. However, they nodded as though it was the first time they'd heard it.  
  
"And there were those times last year when I had visions even when I wasn't asleep," Harry added. "But I haven't had any of those in a long time."  
  
The Order still sat in silence, as if mulling over what Harry had just said. He was feeling guilty because he hadn't written down the dream about Sirius. He continued speaking in spite of himself; the silence was too much. "And the only vision I've had since... since that night... was of Bellatrix." He hated saying her name. He hated the way it rolled off his tongue, the way it lingered in the air like the stench of something dead that had already been removed.  
  
"You needn't worry about that," Remus said finally. "The information you provided us with was right on target. It has been taken care of."  
  
Harry didn't press the details, for he knew he would get none.  
  
It was after midnight when Harry finally made it back to the common room after his meeting with the Order. Ron and Hermione were asleep on the chairs in front of the fireplace. Harry grinned and cleared his throat. "I'm back."  
  
Ron awoke with a start and stood up. "And where have you been?" he demanded.  
  
"Didn't Dumbledore tell you?" Harry questioned.  
  
Hermione shook her head. "He only told us that we had to cancel any sort of plans we had for tonight because you were gone. Gone where?"  
  
If Dumbledore hadn't told them, then perhaps Harry wasn't either. But Ron and Hermione were the two people who he trusted the most in the world. He had learned long ago that he couldn't hide things from them. Maybe Dumbledore just thought it would be Harry's place to tell them.  
  
"I was at the Burrow."  
  
"What? Why?" Ron asked. "How did you end up there?"  
  
"It's a long story." Harry ran a hand through his unruly dark hair.  
  
"Oh, so that's what this is about," Hermione replied. "To talk about your dreams?"  
  
"Visions," Harry corrected her. "And the only one I've had was about the Death Eater in Azkaban. They said that they've taken care of it."  
  
"How?" Ron asked.  
  
Harry shrugged. "That's all they'd tell me. But I did learn something very interesting. I think that Professor Leurre isn't who we think she is."  
  
Ron just looked more confused, but Hermione suddenly jumped out of her seat. "Something's been bothering me about her name. If I remember correctly, Leurre means illusion in French."  
  
"It fits. Professor Leurre is an illusion." Both of them were staring at Harry as though he'd lost his mind. He grinned broadly. "Don't you see? She's Tonks!"  
  
Hermione pounded her fist into her opposite hand. "Of course! Professor Leurre is always knocking things over. She's a tad clumsy, just like Tonks!"  
  
"But why has she tried to disguise herself as McGonagall?" Ron asked.  
  
"Don't know. But Tonks doesn't know that we know who she is yet," Harry said.  
  
"We should tell her," Hermione said. "It'd be the right thing to do."  
  
"If you ask me," Ron said, "it would have been the right thing for her to tell us."  
  
The next day started with a tremendous thurderstorm. The rain flooded the gutters that ran along the edge of the roof and hissed loudly on the window panes. Harry stumbled mindlessly through his classes. He was so worn out that he didn't think he'd dreamt at all for the few hours' sleep he'd had the morning before. He had taken a quick nap after his afternoon class but woke up hours later after dinner had already started.  
  
Groggy and yawning, he made his way to the Great Hall. By the time he got there, most of his friends were already done eating. He settled down at the edge of the table and stared at his own reflection in his minestrone soup.  
  
"Hey, Potter"  
  
Draco Malfoy slithered over to the Gryffindor table, his face set in his familiar smirk. His pale hair was slicked back, his grey eyes sparkling.  
  
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry spat..  
  
"Heard you didn't make captain," Malfoy replied. "I hope my mother's complaint to Dumbledore didn't have anything to do with it. Don't want them bending the rules for you again, Potter."  
  
"Now you're having your mother fight your battles for you?" Harry retorted.  
  
He sneered. "At least I've got one."  
  
Harry locked his jaw. He knew that if he opened his mouth the filth that would have come out of it would have offended every one on the table within hearshot of him. Honestly, he would have wanted nothing more than to jump out of his seat and tackle Malfoy. But he had to control himself. He had to feel nothing. He had to be numb. He couldn't say anything.  
Malfoy seemed surprise at his sudden self-control. "See you around, Potter."  
  
"I can't take this anymore," Hermione announced suddenly. "I've decided I'm going to be a vegan." She pushed away her plate of eggs and sausage and helped herself to some plain toast.  
  
"What's that?" Ron asked.  
  
"A vegan is a like a vegetarian," she replied. "Except that besides not eating meat, I also don't eat any kind of eggs or dairy products."  
  
"So what exactly can you eat?" Harry questioned.  
  
She shrugged. "Lots of things. Bread. Nuts."  
  
"You sound nuts to me," Ron muttered.  
  
"You're the crazy one!" Hermione cried. "Do you even know what you're shoving into your mouth?"  
  
"It's just pig," Ron replied. "I know what pork is, Hermione." He gestured to his plate.  
  
She looked at him, eyes narrowed, hair starting to crackle with electricity.  
  
"Don't be fooled Herminone; if we didn't eat animals, they would eat us" said Ron sagely, focusing on his meal and not noticing the expression on her face.  
  
"But do you know what they did to it?"  
  
He rolled his eyes. "No, Hermione, what did they do to it?"  
  
Hermione waited until all eyes were upon her when she answered. "They castrated it."  
  
Harry winced. Ron looked confused. "Castrated it? What does that mean? Is that some kind of flavouring?"  
  
Harry would have laughed if he wasn't experiencing sympathy pains for the poor beast. He put down his fork. He'd quickly lost his appetite.  
  
Hermione merely grinned. "I guess you could say that."  
  
Ron turned to Harry, still perplexed. "What does castrate mean?"  
  
Harry suppressed a grin. "I'll tell you when you're older." Ron frowned. "But I'll tell you one thing, if there was a spell for it, I'd do it to Malfoy in a heartbeat."  
  
"What d'you want to do to Malfoy?" Ginny questioned, taking the empty seat next to Hermione.  
  
"Nothing," Harry said quickly. "So I was thinking, when we go to Hogsmeade tomorrow, we ought to have a small D.A. get together, just so we know who's with us and who's not."  
  
"Let's not meet at the Hog's Head again," Ron moaned. The bartender gives me the creeps. How about the Three Broomsticks?"  
  
"That may not be safe," Hermione said.  
  
"I don't think security is an issue," Harry announced. "I mean, it's not like last year."  
  
"True," Ginny said. "We could just get together and have a cuppa."  
  
"But when are we going to get down to business, Harry?" Hermione demanded. "We've wasted over two months already."  
  
He was well aware of that, but he wasn't ready yet. He wanted to study up a bit more. "Okay, tomrrow" he replied. That should give me enough time to revise some curses from the Advance Defence book, he thought to himself  
  
This seemed to satisfy Hermione. "Ginny and I will go spread the word. How does one o'clock sound?"  
  
"Fine," Harry replied. The two girls stood up from the table and nonchalantly made their way to the far corners of the Great Hall.  
  
Ron sighed. "I guess I'd better start studying. Herbology chapter's a killer this week  
  
The next day Harry was standing in line with his permission slip in hand to go to Hogsmeade at noontime. He felt butterflies in his stomach. They were annoying. He wished they would go away  
  
He was anxious about the D.A meeting.  
  
He must have changed his clothes five times that morning, and was now regretting the plain, white polo shirt he was wearing beneath his cloak. If it got wet, it would be ruined, and everyone would be able to see right through it. He didn't want to look like a drowned rat. Plus, he was wearing his only pair of khaki pants he'd ever owned in his life. There would be mud all over the streets and they'd be ruined. Maybe if he had time, he could scourgify them a little before going to the Three Broomsticks.  
  
When they finally did reach Hogsmeade, Harry went to post another letter to Remus, while Ron & Hermione went ahead. He was walking back to the Three Broomsticks when he heard his name being called.  
  
"Hey, Harry!"  
  
Harry turned around and saw Seamus running towards him with a bag full of candy from Honeydukes. "Hi Seamus," he greeted.  
  
"On your way to the... eh, the meeting?" he asked quietly.  
  
Harry checked his watch. It was already ten to one. "Yeah. Are you coming?"  
  
"'Course I am." Seamus sounded insulted. "I know that last year... Last year it was an awkward time between us. I hope you won't hold it against me."  
  
"Of course not." It was Harry's turn to feel insulted. "I guess I'm just surprised. I mean, you only came to the last meeting."  
  
"It's just that I realised something," Seamus said, stopping besides Harry.  
  
Harry stopped as well. He looked apologetic. "No matter what me parents say, I know a battle is on the way. You can feel it in the air, ya know? I had best be prepared. And I know that they might not trust you to teach us what you've been teaching us, but I know that I trust you." He grinned. "Besides, it'll be a great way to get me grades up in Defence Against the Dark Arts. That Professor Leurre has been on my case about practising my counter curses."  
  
Harry laughed. But he found it odd that Seamus was so observant. Was there really a foreboding sense of war in the air? He had always had his personal battles with Voldemort, but had the time come for the whole wizarding world to be involved? And where did that leave the Muggles?  
  
He ignored the shiver that ran down his spine as he and Seamus headed towards the Three Broomsticks. He still didn't know what to do with the package. It was too big to fit in his pockets. Maybe he could try some sort of charm to shrink it, but not with Seamus watching.  
  
The two of them stepped inside the pub. Ron and Hermione were already there, along with Colin and Dennis Creevy and Luna Lovegood. They motioned for Harry and Seamus to join them at a nearby table.  
  
"I know that Dean and Neville are coming too," Seamus said, taking a seat next to Colin.  
  
"Gin's bound to round up a few more," Ron added. Hermione, however, looked sceptical.  
  
"I think we're going to have a few less than last year," she said. "Due to special circumstances."  
  
Harry sank into his seat. He doubted that Ginny's old boyfriend, Michael Corner and his friends would show up, and he was glad that Cho and her friend Marietta Edgecombe, who had betrayed them last year, probably wouldn't turn up either  
  
With only a few minutes to spare, Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley strolled inside out of the rain. So did Hannah Abbott, Padma and Parvati Patil, along with Susan Bones, Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein, and Zacharias Smith. Ginny and Neville rushed in at the last second.  
  
"Sorry," Neville apologised, pulling over a chair from an empty table. "Long lines at the post office.  
  
Hermione pulled out a slip of parchment with everyone's name on it, which appeared to be the same slip that had got them into so much trouble last year. Marietta Edgecomb's name had been crossed out.  
  
Harry took a deep breath and checked his watch. It was already a few minutes past one. "It looks as though everyone's here." He straightened up in his chair. "I'd like to welcome you all to the first unofficial meeting..." He looked around at the small group.  
The front door opened and shut quietly. He glanced towards the entrance. Cho was standing there, alone. She looked a little frazzled by the rain and a little embarrassed to be late, but gorgeous nevertheless.  
Harry tried to ignore the flip-flop his stomach did at the sight of her. He didn't know she could still do that to him. She hastily made her way over to the group.  
"Sorry I'm late," she said quietly. "Can I still...? I mean, is it okay if I...?" She glanced up at Harry.  
He sighed. He didn't know that he could really trust her again. Although, it did take guts to come back to D.A. He glanced at Ron, who just shrugged. Hermione looked thoughtful. Ginny looked positively furious. Did Cho have her heart in the right place? Was she there to learn, or to merely make life a living hell for Harry?  
He hoped he wouldn't regret it as Harry pulled up another chair between him and Seamus. "Have a seat. You're just in time."  
Cho smiled and sat down, ignoring the murmurs around her.  
  
Harry continued. "I know we're a little smaller this year, but that doesn't mean that we matter any less. We must double our efforts. We need to recruit more. For all of you know just as well as I do that the battle against Voldemort has just started."  
  
Some winced at the sound of his name. Hermione spoke up. "I'd just like to say," she said staring directly at Cho, "that this year I've added an extra precaution to our contract." She held up the slip of parchment. She'd crossed off the names of the students who had graduated from Hogwarts, as well as those who hadn't shown up for the meeting. "I've added another curse. If anyone has a problem with this, please let me know and we'll cross off your name you can leave immediately."  
All eyes were on Cho, who looked defiantly back at Hermione. "I'm staying," she declared.  
  
Harry thought he should have felt relieved, but he didn't. "Our first meeting will be next weekend," he said quietly. "Usual place, at ten o'clock."  
  
"Are you sure it's okay to do this?" Dennis Creevy questioned. "It's not going to turn into a huge fiasco like last year?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "Professor Dumbledore has given us permission. Although, I'm sure there would be certain teachers who would have no problem suspending our little club, so we all need to be careful. Umbridge may be gone, but there are dark eyes and ears everywhere." He glanced around the pub. It was mostly empty, except for a couple huddled in a corner together.  
  
"Is there anything we should read up on?" Hannah Abbott asked. "What are we going to work on first?"  
  
"We ought to review a little first," Harry said. "I think we could all use some work on our Patronuses. And counter-curses," he added, grinning in Seamus's direction.  
  
"Late again" sneered Snape.  
  
"We were talking with Professor McGonagall about the thirteen uses of Dragon Blood!" Ron said, smartly and quickly. A few of the more intelligent students sniggered.  
  
"That's quite interesting," Snape replied. "Because last time I checked, there were only twelve uses. I think it had better be ten points each off Gryffindor for poor punctuality, and a further ten on account of Mr Weasley's stupidity. Now go and sit down"  
  
The Slytherins burst out laughing as they found their seats.  
  
"Silence, or the whole class will be given lines!" Professor Snape hissed, closing a tatty black briefcase. He stood up, taller and more menacing in his billowing black robes, and walked slowly to the front of his desk.  
"You all know, I presume, that your N.E.W.Ts exams are growing steadily nearer," he talked, his voice as oily as his skin. "The exam will be given to one person at a time, and I DO hope all of you are prepared."  
"You will also know," he continued, "that the preparation for the exams is independent, until I say further. As for the dream trio," he added, walking over to a nearby table occupied by Harry, Ron and Hermione "I think it best if I split you up immediately."  
Draco smirked. He always enjoyed seeing Harry Potter, being tormented by Snape. He himself had tried to make Harry's life (along with Weasley and Granger's) as miserable and humiliating as possible throughout the years, though many of his plans backfired. Harry looked over at him, a similar smirk on his face.  
"Professor, sir," he said quietly, "don't you think it unfair not to split up Malfoy's group?"  
"That," said Snape, his lip curling, "is a decision that will be up to me."  
  
"Ha," muttered Malfoy, his pearly white teeth glittering through a small smile. He loved to get his way: he always had, and as Snape passed his, Crabbe's, and Goyle's cauldrons, he smiled at them.  
"Today we will continue studying the varieties of truth serums, with the recreation of the Veritaserum, the strongest most powerful of all truth serums. Three drops will have you spilling your inner most secrets. If it works correctly, the taker will..."  
Hermione raised her hand.  
"MISS GRANGER, PUT YOUR HAND DOWN!" Snape shouted Bushy brown hair surrounding her face, Hermione had been the smartest person in her year, and was probably about to tell the fuming Professor that she already knew how to conjure the potion.  
"I would expect a know-it-all to have no questions," said Snape, his voice now a deadly quiet. "Ten points from Gryffindor, for a question not worthy of answering."  
Draco, along with many of the Slytherins, was shaking with silent laughter. Malfoy's slicked platinum blonde hair was shaking silently, as well as his hands that he had to cup over his mouth. Hermione, looking as though about to cry, slowly put her hand down, and opened her book, as well as Harry and Ron, who had moved to separate ends of the dungeon classroom.  
  
"If it works correctly, the taker will tell you anything you wish answered, if made incorrectly, the mind of the taker will be a jumbled mess, neither knowing what is truth and what isn't. For those of you who have difficulty recreating simple potions," Snape said glancing down to Harry and frowning, "I have an antidote. Now get busy, you only have an hour to complete this potion, and don't forget, this will be a part of your N.E.W.T.S, so study it well."  
"I want to hear no talking, as this is an independent assignment," ordered Snape, moving around his desk and sitting down behind it. "Page 356 of Advanced Potion Making will give you exact instructions. Begin."  
The next hour was spent in silence, the only noise was that of clanking utensils on the sides of the caldrons and chopping of knifes. Harry and Ron worked separately, aware that Snape was watching them closely.  
When Snape stood up again, the students looked up at him, watching him pace the room, inspecting the different caldrons. He looked at Malfoy's, lifting a spoon of the potion and smiling with wicked pleasure.  
  
"Perfect as usual Mr. Malfoy," he said, then glanced around at the Gryffindors.  
"Well, lets see if Weasley's got what it takes to make a decent wizard," Snape said. "Or are you afraid?" Ron stood up, confronting the greasy haired man face to face, then picked up the bottle of potion he had set aside for grading. Harry's heart began to beat furiously. There was nothing he could do to help his friend this time, and nothing he could think of saying would cause a difference in Snape.  
"Three drops will have you telling me your entire life's story, which I do not care to listen to," Snape said, an evil grin on his pasty face. "So one drop should suffice for this class." He opened the stopper to the bottle and placed a dropper into the dark liquid, lifting the drop up for his pupil.  
Ron took the dropper, quaking with fear, placing the liquid on his tongue. He looked up at his Professor, as Harry waited with baited breath.  
"Now then Mr. Weasley," Snape said in a patronising tone. "Tell me, has anyone been helping you these past weeks with your potions?"  
"No," Ron said firmly.  
  
"And has anyone been substituting their potions for yours?"  
"No."  
"Then how is it you've suddenly become so well skilled in the art of Potions?" Snape growled bitterly.  
"I followed your directions," Ron said with a smile. Snape sneered at him, as several students began to snicker.  
"Tell me, Mr. Weasley. How is it you have finally decided to follow instructions properly? Tell me, what made the difference in you?"  
"You finally started writing legibly," Ron said in a calm tone.  
"You are above all the most irritating, irrational, worst excuse for a wizard that I've ever seen," Snape barked, turning to step back to his seat.  
"And you are a greasy haired, beak nosed, pasty faced vampire with the worst breath I've ever smelt," Ron said in the most calm manner anyone had ever heard. Snape turned on his heel, staring at the boy through the silence of the room. Nobody spoke; it was as if everyone were holding their breaths, waiting for the explosion.  
"What did you just say?" Snape asked.  
"I said, you are a greasy haired, beak nosed..."  
"I heard you the first time," Snape growled. "One hundred points from Gryffindor, and you will serve a full week's detention."  
  
"You can't do that," Harry snapped, standing up for his friend. "He didn't do anything wrong, he just answered your question."  
"Fifty more points for your audacity, Potter," Snape said. "And you can share in your friend's detention. Be here tonight at nine o'clock. Class is dismissed."  
'I can't believe he took a hundred points from Gryffindor, just for doing what was asked," Hermione grumbled, as they climbed the stairs out of the dungeons.  
  
Muggle Studies was after lunch. Harry came in a sat next to Neville  
  
"Girls like that." Neville was saying  
  
Parvati, who was sitting in front of Neville, turned around in her seat, her long, dark plait trailing on the end of his desk. "And what do you know about girls, Neville?" she scoffed.  
  
Neville turned red. "I just... I mean that they like scars and bruises and stuff. Tough guys."  
  
Harry laughed. "Maybe I'll try to get another scar then."  
  
Parvati swirled around. "Why Harry? Are you trying to impress a girl?"  
  
Harry knew that the entire class was looking at him, but for some reason, he didn't care. He just felt so refreshed after the visit to Hogsmead "Maybe," he answered, feeling in the mood for winding up the biggest gossip in Hogwarts.  
  
"Ooh, who is it, Harry?" Parvati asked.  
  
"It's not Granger, is it?" Lavender Brown demanded.  
  
"No, it's not Hermione," he replied.  
  
"Who is it then?" Parvati questioned.  
  
"Is she in our year?" Lavender asked. "Our house?"  
  
Harry groaned. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea. "Never mind. I was just joking," he said hastily.  
  
"Yeah, right," Parvati snorted. "I bet I know who it is..."  
  
She was interrupted by Professor Avis's entrance. That morning she was wearing high heels that clicked as she trotted along the wooden floor to her place in front of the class. Her hair was pulled back into a tight braid that trailed behind her back. She was wearing a sweater and jeans. This was the most that she ever looked like a Muggle. Harry was impressed. If it weren't for the rhinestone-covered cat-eye glasses, he would have never given her a second glance.  
  
"Good morning, class," she greeted in her usual sing-song voice.  
  
"Good morning," they replied automatically.  
  
"Today is a very exciting day. Today we'll be discussing the details of our Halloween field trip, set to take place on Halloween night." She paused dramatically. "All Hollow's Eve is a special day in the Muggle world. There are religious aspects to this holiday, pertaining to spirits in the dead. However, on our actual field trip, we will be observing typical Muggles and mostly children as they participate in the time-honoured tradition of Trick-or-Treating."  
  
There were some "oohs" from the students who didn't know much about Muggle culture. Harry grinned. He'd never actually gone trick-or-treating himself, but he'd seen Dudley dress up for a dozen years. Ironically, he'd been a wizard on several occasions.  
  
"We will be leaving on Thursday afternoon right after lunch. You'll be missing your afternoon classes."  
  
"Yes! No Herbology!" Ron celebrated, his smile stretching from ear to ear.  
  
"Calm down, Mr. Weasley," Profess Avis snapped. "I assure you, you're still responsible for all of the homework for that day."  
  
Ron smile faded, but there was still a twinkle in his eye.  
  
Professor Avis continued. "We will meet in this classroom promptly at one o'clock in the afternoon. The headmaster has been kind enough to connect our hearth to the Floo network. We will be travelling by Floo Powder to the Ministry of Magic in London, where Mr. Weasley..." she glanced at Ron, "Mr. Arthur Weasley will be waiting. From there, we will take a walking tour around Muggle London and explore Muggles in their natural habitat."  
  
Beside Harry, Neville's hand shot into the air. "Yes, Mr. Longbottom?"  
  
"Are we actually going to get to go trix... I mean, are we going to go treating?"  
  
"No, I'm afraid that after a long debate, we've decided it's a little too risky. However, that afternoon we are going to do something even better." Professor Avis grew quite excited. She waddled over to her desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a flier. "I've reserved us all a tour of the Tower of London and a special showing of the crowned jewels. We will be studying Muggle history and cross-referencing key historical dates and figures with our own." She grinned broadly, handing it to Ernie Macmillan to pass around to the rest of the class. "And if I don't get any trouble from any of you, I won't make you write an essay and compare the two.  
  
"I have to stress that you must all be on your best behaviour. I know you all possess a curious mind, but please keep your hands to yourselves and your lips shut. The school governors were very gracious for letting us go on this field trip, and if all goes well it will become an annual outing. Unless you choose to mess it up somehow. However, you're all intelligent students. I don't expect trouble from any of you. Yes, Miss Brown?"  
  
Lavender put her hand down. "I was wondering, Professor Avis, what are we supposed to wear? Do we get to wear costumes or anything?"  
  
"No, I'm afraid not. Everyone will be dressed uniformly in black with a sweater that you will all be receiving at the Ministry."  
  
Both Parvati and Lavender looked disappointed. "Why do we all have to look the same?"  
  
"So that we'll look like we belong in a tour group. No fussing, girls, that's just the way it has to be." She cleared her throat. "As for the rest of the day that we've planned, Mr. Weasley has managed to pull some strings for us. That night, we're going to have dinner at a very special place: the Royal Dining Realm."  
  
Professor Avis paused as though she were waiting for some more cries of astonishment from her class. "Don't you know what the Realm is?"  
  
Neville raised his hand uncertainly. "I... I think that my Gran has eaten there. Whenever she goes, she's always dressed in ruffles and frilly clothes."  
  
Professor Avis nodded. "The Royal Dining Realm is a special theme restaurant, which Muggles refer to as a Medieval Dinner. There is food from the old days, along with lots of entertainment that is important in both Muggle and Wizarding history. We're all going to have an excellent time."  
  
"What kind of entertainment?" Ron asked.  
  
"There will be jousting and fencing and games."  
  
"Excellent!" Dean cried. "Will we get to joust?"  
  
"I'm afraid not," she replied. "It's much too dangerous. I must ask all of you not to draw too much attention to yourselves. We have to do our best to blend in with the crowd. If we raise too much suspicion or are discovered in any way, it will be disastrous."  
  
The mood of the males in the class seemed to deteriorate slightly at the sound that there would be no jousting or fencing involved in that night's dinner. "It's not fair," Ron muttered. "Muggles get to have all the fun."  
  
After a few more minutes of explanation, Professor Avis was satisfied with her field trip lecture and the class began discussing the Muggle novel they had to read called, To Kill a Mockingbird. An American author who had grown up in the deep southern states wrote the novel. Harry couldn't help but notice that the racism in the book was something that he could apply to the riff between Wizards and Muggles, and even Wizards and non-human creatures. It reminded him of the unfair treatment that Lupin had suffered with for so many years and the trials he still had to face because he was a werewolf.  
  
Class went by quickly, and before Harry knew it, the bell rang. "Please finish the last chapter for Wednesday and write a response. I want at least a foot of parchment." She dismissed them and then disappeared back into her office.  
  
As Harry gathered his supplies, Parvati turned to him, a mischievous grin on her face. "So congratulations, Harry."  
  
"Congratulations on what?" he questioned, confused.  
  
"On you and Ginny," she said. "It's about time you two got together." She turned around, her dark hair flipping with her, and practically skipped out of the classroom. Everybody in the classroom froze, except for Neville, who quickly followed Parvati out the door.  
  
Harry's mouth dropped. He suddenly felt all eyes on him. "Wait!" he called. "I'm not - Ginny and I..."  
  
"She's got to be joking!" Ron exclaimed. "You're going out with my sister and you didn't even tell me?"  
  
"We're not going out," Harry said forcefully. "We're not together. Ginny and I are friends, that's all. Nothing more."  
  
"That doesn't mean you don't want it to be more," Lavender giggled. "We saw this coming long before you did, Harry."  
  
"You don't understand!" Harry cried. "Really, we're not a couple and we don't want to be."  
  
But it was too late. The entire class was buzzing with the new gossip. Harry fumed. He was going to hex Parvati into oblivion.  
  
After both Harry and Ginny tried to set the record straight about a dozen times, he found it was nearly impossible to stop word from reaching the entire school. Harry apologised for what had happened, but Ginny seemed to take it right in stride. She was much more collected when it came to gossip.  
  
"They'll get tired of it, Harry," she said. "You'll see. Next week we'll be old news. Besides, when they see that we're not together, they'll get the idea."  
  
He hoped she was right.  
  
After dinner that night, Harry climbed the stairs to the Owlery. He wanted to get a breath of cool autumn air before going down into the dungeon for his Occlumency lesson. He thought he deserved a few days off; he was absolutely exhausted.  
  
As Harry pushed open the Owlery door, he took a deep breath, bracing himself for the smell of owl droppings and rotting mouse carcasses. But when he did look inside, the sight amazed him.  
  
Where there had been a pack of owls, there were none. Each perch was empty. There was no stench of droppings or any sign of life in the deserted Owlery. It was so eerie that Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.  
  
He walked over to the window, his feet crunching on the hay-covered floor. He looked out, wondering where Hedwig was and if she was safe. He remembered that Dumbledore had said that owls had been intercepted earlier in the year. What if Hedwig had met the same fate - or worse, that she'd been killed?  
  
Suddenly, Harry heard voices from outside the Owlery door. A snicker. The door was quickly thrown open, and Malfoy and his two goons walked in. He was carrying a tiny package.  
  
Malfoy sneered. "What are you doing up here, Potter? Waiting for Weasley so the two of you can have a little romantic rendezvous?"  
  
Harry's fists clenched at his sides. "Ginny and I are not dating."  
  
"I wasn't talking about her," Malfoy chuckled. Crabbe and Goyle laughed along with him.  
  
Harry could feel his blood boiling. He needed to get away from Malfoy before he did something stupid. After all, the Owlery was at the top of one of the tallest towers at Hogwarts, and the windows were all open. There was no telling if Malfoy got too close and Harry happened to bump him over the edge.  
  
He checked his watch. He only had a few minutes before he was due for Occlumency. "I don't have time for this," he muttered as he walked past Malfoy.  
  
"Going to be late for a remedial Potions lesson?" Malfoy snickered. "Too stupid to learn it by yourself, eh?"  
  
Harry lingered in the doorway. He wanted nothing more than to take all of his aggression out on Malfoy with his fists. But he needed to be prepared for anger like this. When he met Voldemort again, or if he ever saw Bellatrix, he would have to control himself. He took a deep breath. "Whatever you say, Malfoy. At least my godfather wasn't too stupid to find a way out of Azkaban."  
  
He flashed a grin in Malfoy's direction, who was at a loss for words, and then marched down the stairs towards the dungeon  
  
It feels good to put Malfoy in his place, Harry thought with a smile.  
  
Harry had finally done it. After an hour of blocking Snape from his mind, he'd managed to hit him with a jelly-legs jinx. Harry tried desperately not to laugh as Snape jiggled around the dungeon before performing the correct counter-curse.  
  
In fact, the whole night had gone rather well. Snape had not seen any of his memories. He hadn't lost control of his emotions, even when Snape talked about Sirius as nothing more than a half-bred mutt.  
  
It made up for the bad afternoon he'd had with Parvati's big mouth. The image of Snape with jelly legs was worth twenty verses of "Harry and Ginny, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G." He had to wonder if his peers had nothing better to do than act like children.  
  
Snape, who was still out of breath from the curse, glared at Harry with fierce eyes. "We're done for tonight, Potter. I'll see you on Thursday. Get out of my sight!" he bellowed.  
  
Harry, who had been halfway to the door as soon as he'd heard the phrase we're done, stopped dead in his tracks. He turned back to Snape, who was red in the face and greasier than ever.  
  
"Professor, I've got my Muggle Studies field trip on Thursday. We leave after lunch and don't get back until late at night."  
  
There was a glimmer in Snape's eye as he straightened up at his desk. "Then you can't go."  
  
"But... I have to..." Harry stammered. He'd been looking forward to the Halloween field trip ever since the first week of school.  
  
"No, you do not have to," Snape spat. "You cannot go."  
  
"But it's for a class."  
  
"But it is not required. It is not a test. It is not an examination. It is a silly field trip and a waste of time," he growled. However, Harry couldn't help but feel that he was taking some sort of sick pleasure in spoiling Harry's fun.  
  
"Sir, please, Professor Avis and Mr. Weasley have made reservations. They're expecting me to go."  
  
"Then I will give you a choice," Snape replied. "Your training is now more important than ever, Potter. You will miss the field trip and stay for your lesson on Thursday, or you will go on the field trip and we will have our lesson on Friday."  
  
"But sir, I have Quidditch practice on Friday night. Our first match is this Saturday. I can't miss it." And Snape knew full well that it was against Slytherin.  
"Then you must choose. The field trip or Quidditch."  
  
"Isn't there any other time we could do it?" Harry asked. "Tomorrow?"  
"I will not rearrange my entire schedule for your silly little excursions, Potter," he snapped.  
  
Harry scowled. What could Snape possibly be doing the night before Halloween? Of course, it was Devil's night. Perhaps he had to go out and cause mischief with his fellow demons. However, it didn't matter, because Harry still had to make a choice.  
  
He didn't want to miss the field trip. He'd only been to London on a few occasions. Ron would understand about Quidditch practice, but the next game was against Snape's house, and it was important to Harry that Gryffindor beat them.  
  
He took a deep breath. "I'll see you on Thursday."  
  
Snape gave no response. Harry sighed and trudged out of the dungeon, his spirits squashed beneath Snape's jelly legs.  
  
As autumn progressed, the days became colder, and the nights longer, things began to change in the atmosphere in and around Hogwarts  
  
It was the eve of Halloween, and Harry found himself focusing his mind on the flames leaping from the fire. The other students had turned in hours ago, leaving him alone in the room. The door of the common room burst open, tearing his attention away from the flames and back into reality. Ginny fell through, apparently unable to stand.  
  
"MALFOY" she seethed, pointing at her legs. Harry recognised the leg-locker curse at once; Neville had fallen victim to it during the first year. He mumbled the counter curse.  
  
"Thanks. I'm going to do something bad to him sometime soon" Ginny raged as she climbed the spiral staircase to the girls dormitory.  
  
Harry returned to his thoughts of the impending celebration scheduled for the following evening did little to aid in the improvement of the castle's mood, especially with Harry. He didn't want to think about celebrating; instead he tried to focus on his Occlumency lessons, with a great deal of difficulty. He couldn't stop thinking about the events of the past week. The more he thought, the more tired he became. All he wanted to do was sleep, knowing eventually that he would have to wake up and face reality. With a reluctant sigh, Harry stood, leaving the warmth of the common room and climbed the stairs to his dormitory. He didn't bother changing into his pyjamas, instead lying on his bed fully clothed.  
  
He closed his eyes, trying to block out the images that had been plaguing his thoughts for the last several days. He could feel himself drifting into a state of slumber, when he suddenly found himself standing on a dark sidewalk. The sounds of the night whispered around him, the street lamp above his head was dim; the rubbish bins lining the curb were buzzing with flies. Harry could hear the sounds of footsteps approaching and had the instant urge to hide. The night seemed to suddenly cool, as a rustle in a nearby alleyway caught his attention.  
  
He looked hard, straining to see through the shadows. The footsteps continued to echo up the street, coming closer with every second. The urge to run was pounding in his ears, but instead he found himself walking forward. He glanced down as he stepped, his shoes silent on the pavement, the light above him from the street lamps could not detect him to cast a shadow.  
  
He edged closer to the alley, hearing a rattling breath and feeling the air around him turn to ice. The footsteps were coming closer, and Harry felt the need to cry out, to stop the owner from coming closer. Then he saw them, two dark figures moving slowly from the alley as if floating on air; Dementors. They were moving forward, past him. Harry hurried to follow, a slight sense of pleasure at not being affected by the hooded creatures as he always had been.  
  
He heard the footsteps, they stopped briefly, followed by a secsesion of rapid, heavy footsteps; thier target was atempting to escape. Harry followed the dementors as they swopped after their prey. He caught a glimpse of the intended victim; to his horror he saw it was Percy  
  
"Expecto Patroum" yelled Percy, pointing his wand over his shoulder, but only a thin wispy vapour appeared from his wand. It was insufficient to halt the demontors charge and they swept it aside with their revolting hands.  
  
Percy crashed into dustbins as he fled through the alley, barely able to keep ahead of the wave of cold eminating from the hunters. Harry tried to keep up, then released that he was witnessing another vision. Voldemorts body was obviosly too frail to pursue the dementors.  
  
Suddenly the lead dementor changed direction, aparently abandoning the chase. Good thought Harry, Percy might be able to fight one.  
  
Percy, however, was beginning to weaken; he was slowing and a surge of cold engulfed him. He stopped to face his tormentor. Despite the darkness, Harry saw a look of fright cross Percy's face.  
  
"Expecto Patroum, Expecto Patroum" he shouted, but again, the spell was too feeble to fight the dementor, only slow it.  
  
Harry watched as Percy paused, seemingly to gather his strength and his thoughts.  
  
"EXPECTO PATRONUM" he shouted, this time more confidently. A magnificent silver animal burst forth from the tip of his wand and lunged along the alleyway towards the dementor.  
  
Harry squinted, trying to see the bright animal that lit the alleyway; it was a bear. It reached the dementor, reared up on its hind legs, and swipped at its face with a forepaw.  
  
The dementor fled upwards into the night sky, but the cold remained.  
  
"NOOO!!!" A cry followed by a scream of misery echoed in the night and he knew what had happened.  
  
The other Dementor had tried to cut Percy off, and now it had found it's prey. Harry rushed forward, and watched in dismay as it leant over Percy's shadowed figure. As Harry neared he could see the Percy's red hair; he was lying on his back, eyes wide open in terror, his mouth in a silent scream. The hooded creature straightened up and glided away, leaving Percy soulless and worse than dead. Harry heard the rattling figures and the swish of it's cloak as it disappeared into the night.  
  
High pitched laughter echo through the alley, and Harry's scar began to burn. He glanced back to the figure lying on the ground, near the alley's entrance. Harry stepped closer to the lifeless body and looked down at the tragic sight.  
  
Percy Weasley lay amongst the cardboard boxes and contents of a tipped over dustbin. His legs lay in a puddle, but this was the least of his worries; his soul taken by the Dementors.  
  
Harry awoke to an odd sensation, staring into the concerned eyes of his best friend. Ron frowned at him, the dim light of dawn shining around him. He sat up with a groan, feeling more exhausted then he had when he went to bed, his mind trying to search what it was that had just happened to him.  
"Are you all right?" Ron asked, sitting back on the foot of Harry's bed, staring at him.  
"Yeah, I think so," Harry answered, reaching for his glasses lying on the table near his bed. "Why did you wake me?"  
"You were having a nightmare or something," Ron told him softy, trying not to wake the rest of the room's sleeping occupants.  
"I was?"  
"You were calling out Percy's name." Harry frowned thinking back on the night before. He was so tired, it was hard to focus his mind, but he thought hard remembering sitting in the common room practising his Occlumency lessons, then finally giving up and going to bed. He remembered the strange sensation of walking along a quiet street and the cold air. Then it hit him with the full force of what had happened.  
"Percy," Harry said, fear and concern etching his face and voice. "I've got to get to Dumbledore. Percy's in trouble."  
"What do you mean in trouble? From what?"  
  
"Ron, I had a vision. Dementors attacked Percy, they kissed him. Someone sent them after him."  
"Who? Why would anyone want to set Dementors after Percy? Was it You-Know-Who?"  
"No, but he's in trouble. We have to warn him." Harry jumped from his bed, running down the stairs and out the portrait hole, followed by his barefooted, pyjama clad, red haired friend. They ran all the way to the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office, stopping short. They didn't know the password. Harry began pacing the area in front of the statue, thinking. He knew Dumbledore had odd passwords like Lemon Sherbet, but what was it now? Every so often Dumbledore would change it.  
"Hello Harry, Mr. Weasley," Sir Nicholas said, coming around the corner of the hallway. "Up early aren't you?"  
"Nick, please. We're busy," Harry said shortly, still pacing the floor.  
"I can see that. Anything I can help with?"  
"Not unless you know the password for Dumbledore's office," Ron said in an irritated tone.  
"I'm a ghost, Mr. Weasley," Nick said, adjusting his head as it bobbed to the side. "I do not need passwords."  
  
"That's right," Harry said stopping his pacing. "You don't need passwords."  
"That's what I said."  
"Can you get into Dumbledore's office and tell him we have to speak with him?" Nick looked at the boys, eying them with a frown.  
"I suppose, but it is against the rules, even for a ghost to disturb the Headmaster. What's the problem?"  
"Please Nick," Harry pleaded. "Tell Dumbledore I have to see him. Tell him I had another vision, he'll understand." Nick floated in the same place for a few moments, considering what the young man said, before nodding his head, adjusting it back to his shoulders and disappearing through the wall.  
"I don't understand any of this Harry," Ron said once they were alone again. "Who would want to kill Percy?"  
"I don't know, but I know we have to help him."  
  
"How?" Ron asked, as the statue in front of them jumped aside, revealing the white haired man on the other side. Dumbledore looked concerned, stepping aside for the boys.  
"Come with me," he ordered, allowing them to follow him up the stairs. Harry glanced back to see Nick gliding down the stairs from the upper office.  
"Thank you Nick," Harry said softly, watching the ghost nod briefly, and then disappearing through the side wall.  
A few minutes later Harry & Ron were inside Dumbledore's office. It was dimly lit by a handful of candles. The portraits of former headmasters were sleeping soundly, some snoring loudly. Dumbledore motioned for the two to sit, taking his own seat behind the desk. They watched him wave his wand, a tray of biscuits and tea appeared in front of them. The teapot took up its own accord, pouring the hot liquid into the three small cups that floated to the recipients.  
"Now Harry," Dumbledore began, taking his teacup and sipping its contents. "Sir Nicholas tells me you've had another vision."  
"Yes sir," Harry answered, sitting his cup on the edge of the desk and glanced to Ron. "I saw the Dementors attacking Percy Weasley. They kissed him on a street, late at night."  
"Do you know who sent them?" Dumbledore asked with a deep furrow of his white brows. Harry shook his head, and then looked to Ron again before speaking again.  
"I think I was Voldemort," he told the Headmaster, watching as he leaned back in his seat, his fingertips meeting as he placed his hands near his mouth. He eyed Harry and Ron for a moment, inspecting each expression closely.  
Dumbledore reached for a quill and parchment. He jotted down a note, rolling it and taking it to Fawkes. "Take this to Arthur Weasley at the Ministry of Magic" he ordered, watching as Fawkes spread his wings, and vanished in a ball of flames. Dumbledore sat back down, looking at Ron.  
"They will alert the healers at St. Mungo's. Don't worry" said Dumbledore in a reassuring tone, "if Percy's been attacked, the Ministry will find him"  
  
"I can't believe this is happening" said Ron, stunned  
  
"I was wrong last year with my visions" said Harry  
  
"Yeah, but" started Ron  
  
"The two of you need to get back to your dormitory. I believe you have the pitch reserved for your team's practice today. You don't want to miss out on your training."  
"I can't concentrate on Quidditch at a time like this," Ron insisted, standing up beside Harry.  
"You must," Dumbledore argued softly. "It is important for you to keep your mind occupied on other things. We will let you know what we find out."  
Harry and Ron left Dumbledore's office in silence, walking back to their dormitory. They entered through the fat lady's portrait, and went straight to their room. Inside was nearly engulfed in the light of morning, yet as any other Saturday, all was quiet as the students remained in their beds. Nobody was eager to wake early on the weekends, and Harry and Ron found themselves crawling beneath their covers, staring at the ceiling while listening to the soft snores of the Dean, Seamus and Neville. Harry felt miserable. He had seen Percy attacked. "I can't believe Percy's dead" Ron said again after some time. Harry sighed. He felt helpless and it was the most irritating feeling he had ever experienced.  
"I could always be wrong. It wouldn't be the first time" said Harry darkly.  
"It'll kill mum," Ron said again, his voice breaking with emotion.  
Ron turned over in his bed, hiding his face in his pillow. He wasn't willing to let his friend see him cry, but he couldn't stop his tears either. As much as he had always complained and argued with Percy, the truth was he loved him and missed him. Even though he had been foolish and arrogant at times, he was still his brother.  
The weekend passed by in a state of sadness. The boys told Hermione and Ginny about the vision, and they found themselves staring out the window at the forbidden forest, waiting for any sign or word from home. They dreaded the idea of what the news would bring, and feared knowing but had no other choice but to worry. It wasn't until late Sunday night as the four sat alone in the common room, unwilling to go to bed and not wanting to face another day of wondering, that the anticipation confronting them full forced. The clock had just struck midnight, when a soft rapping noise echoed from the window. Harry looked up to find Hedwig sitting on the window ledge, her snow white feathers shining like moonbeams in the darkness. He had sent her late Friday to The Burrow, asking to be notified the minute any word was known about Percy. Harry and Ron were first to the window, pulling it open and allowing the bird to enter. He pulled the letter from her foot, offered her a treat, and then eagerly ripped open the letter addressed to him and Ron in Lupin's hand. Harry opened it, dreading what the contents would reveal.  
  
It confirmed their worst fears. Harry's vision had been accurate.  
  
Halloween this year was less then the joyous occasion it usually was. Nearly Headless Nick had arranged his Deathday celebration, but knew it wouldn't be the same either. The Headless Hunt had been cancelled, and even the Hogwart's ghosts were feeling the despair and tension of the times. Harry found it difficult to think of anything else but death and Voldemort. He spent many long nights sitting alone by the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, practising his Occlumency lessons, hoping to focus his mind and prepare for the next time he had a vision of Voldemort 


	5. Chapter 5

November  
  
The Quidditch match between Slytherin & Gryffindor, naturally, was cancelled, as was the Halloween trip to London. The mood in the Gryffindor tower was reflected in the weather. The sky turned steely grey and freezing winds blasted against the castle, and down corridors when Peeves opened windows to appease his odd sense of humour.  
  
Harry fully expected Malfoy to merciless taunt Ron about Percy, but he remained oddly close-mouthed about the subject. Instead, he had an evil look about him, as if he knew something, but couldn't tell anyone. Yet inside, it was striving to breakout.  
  
In fact theonly objectionable thing Malfoy did was to remove Hermione's voice; at least Harry and the others had a few hours of peace while she couldn't speak. She soon made up for it once the counter curse had been performed, and went to see Profeesor Mcgonagall after ranting about Malfoy for half an hour.  
  
"Why is Malfoy doing this?" pondered Ginny later that evening as they sat in the common room.  
  
"How thick are you?" chided Ron. "He's doing it because he's a git. He's done all of us except Harry, and that's only because he's scared of him."  
  
"I don't think so. He's probably just practising on you, and planing something even worse for me" surmised Harry. "After all, his father in Azkaban because of me, and I freed Dobby.  
  
Hermione stormed back through the common room door, with a face like thunder. She dropped into the chair, folded her arms and crossed her legs.  
  
"So what did McGonagall say then" asked Ron nervously.  
  
"Proof. She wanted proof" said Hermione sharply.  
  
Percy survived into mid November, then passed away as a result of complications and an illness from which he didn't recover. On the day of his funeral the banners in the great hall were changed to black as a mark of respect for the former head boy. Harry, Hermione & the Weasleys were given the day off school to attend the service which took place in a small church outside Otterly St Catchpole.  
  
No one could work out why Percy was attacked; he wasn't involved with The Order. Perhaps it was because he was a Weasley, but he had effectively disowned the rest of the family. Maybe he knew some sensitive information from when he worked with Fudge, and someone was keen that it wasn't released.  
  
Ron suffered mood swings from feelings of great loss and helplessness to anger and started to argue with those closest to him, namely Harry, Ginny & Hermione. Harry could relate to Ron & Ginny having lost Sirius a few months earlier. Talking about it to Ron seemed to make the pain less raw. Ron felt guilty for believing Percy was a traitor to the family.  
  
Ginny, on the other hand, became quiet and withdrawn. This caused great concern, until Ginny eventually exploded one morning in the common room, following a 'coping with loss' lecture from Hermione.  
  
"I was only trying to help"  
  
"Do you thnk I care what you say. "What do you know about it Granger?" Ginny yelled, screwing up her face and stamping her feet. "Nothing. That's what. Nothing."  
  
"I'm really sorry" Hermione said, biting her bottom lip, as she did when she got nervous.  
  
"You've never had something like his happen to you" Ginny screeched "What do your stupid books tell you about it? Nothing. So leave me alone"  
  
She turned round a stomped back upstairs to her dormitory, crying.  
  
"At least she's not bottling it up anymore" said Harry. "she'll probably thank you for it later"  
  
"Maybe."  
  
Harry, Ron & Hermione went down for breakfast. The owl's arrived with the morning post, Hermione received two packages, the Daily Prophet and a letter from Hagrid.  
  
"Hagrid wants to borrow Crookshanks this afternoon for his class" she read aloud  
  
"What for?" asked Ron "cats aren't very magical are they"  
  
"Did you learn nothing in Care of Magical Creatures last year?" sighed Hermione  
  
"I got an OWL"  
  
"Crookshanks isn't a cat" started Hermione  
  
"Looks like a cat and sounds like a cat, so it must be a cat" reasoned Ron  
  
Hermione shrugged her shoulders and opened the paper. Lord Voldemort's activities, real and speculative, were constantly reported in the Daily Prophet. This morning's edition ran with the headline;  
  
DARK MARK SEEN AGAIN The Ministry of Magic has been rocked by claims that it has been covering up attacks by Death Eaters and Dementors, the former allies of You Know Who.  
The Hogwarts Express is said to have been the first target. It is reported that the train fell victim to an attack by the Dementors, the soul-sucking former Azkaban guards.  
Since then, several attacks have been reported, but remain unverifiable. However, the appearance of the Dark Mark over a public park in Wolverhampton has been linked to reports of missing local warlock Thomas Portland, a prominent member of the Ministry's Unspeakables task force.  
  
"I hate him" said Ron, reading Hermione's copy of the paper at the breakfast table  
  
"Who? Portland?"  
  
"No. That Voldemort. And his death eaters"  
  
"Yeah. What are we doing today?" asked Harry, changing the subject before Ron started to rant about what he would do the next time he found a dark wizard.  
  
"Don't know, don't care" mumbled Ron  
  
"Hmm. Muggle studies"  
  
"Not to bad then" said Ron  
  
Breakfast was finished in silence, and they made their way along the cold, draphtey corridors to the muggle studies room. There were occasions when Ron came out of his depression. Professor Avis's classes were some of them, although Mr Weasley hadn't given a lecture for a while,  
  
Today's lesson was exceptionally good. As they took their places Professor Avis wheeled in a large screen television.  
  
"Who knows what this is?" asked the Professor, gesturing to the television.  
  
Harry, of course, knew, but those students not familiar with muggle technology look bemused. Professor Avis assured them that the workings of the television and the video recorder would not be examined, only the influence on muggle culture.  
  
"As a bit of light entertainment we are going to be studying muggle magic today. This is important for two reasons; firstly to demonstrate the workings of the technology, and secondly, how muggles perceive magic"  
  
The first part of the lesson was taken up with explanations covering how to plug the equipment in and operate it. Only when the video was fed into the machine did Harry awake from his day dream.  
  
Pete Daniels & Debbie McDonald were the first act, and they performed the cutting a lady in half trick.  
  
"Why would anyone want to do that?" asked Parvati as Pete Daniels began cutting the box with his assistant inside with an enormous saw. "It's stupid. She's so obviously got her legs tucked up inside the box"  
  
Ron looked disappointed that there was no blood. The next performer was an illusionist, Billy Copperfield. This was slightly more impressive, and the majority of the class believed that he had transfigured an elephant into a mouse. The illusion was shattered when Professor Avis told them it was all done with smoke and mirrors.  
  
The final act reduced the class to hysterics; Timmy Cooper. Harry recognised the classic footage, having seen it with the Dursleys. Timmy had two cardboard tubes, muttered some 'magic' words that where really only nonsense and produce a bottle from them. Then his hand would go under the table, pick up another bottle, he'd mutter his magic words and produce the bottle from the tube.  
  
When the lesson finished Harry & Ron were in better spirits. They traipsed up to Hagrid's hut across the large expanse of grass near the lake.  
He noticed a small bubbling under the lake, which reminded him of the giant squid that resided there, as well as how much of the wizarding world he had begun to take for granted.  
A familiar warm light shone from the window of Hagrid's wooden hut, which increased in intensity as he opened the door warily, holding a large club of some sort. He looked across at the three students, and smiled whilst lowering the weapon.  
"Well, it's nice teh' see yeh three," he exclaimed, ushering them inside. They obeyed, and sat themselves down around Hagrid's kitchen table. He walked towards the stove and lit it.  
"Cup o' tea?" he asked.  
"Yes please," Hermione replied, whilst Harry and Ron nodded their replies in conjunction. Hagrid smiled.  
"I haven' seen yeh at all today, what with yeh no longer takin' Care o' Magical Creatures," he said, conversationally. Harry suddenly felt very guilty.  
"It isn't because..." he began, but Hagrid cut him off with a chuckle.  
"Here, I know it ain't because o' me, I reckoned yeh fancied yerselves as Aurors," he replied.  
"Yeah, why else would we willingly take Potions?" Ron asked, sarcastically. Hagrid chuckled.  
  
"I know yeh've grown up five years since I firs' met yeh, but some things ne'er change," he laughed.  
"How are you, Hagrid?" Hermione asked, swinging her legs on the great chair she was sitting upon as she stirred her tea.  
"Pretty good, thanks."  
"How's Grawp?"  
  
"A'right. Is english is bet'r, like mine is"  
  
Ron smirked and was elbowed in the ribs by Hermione  
  
"I've been teachin' 'im some sen'ences and stuff. He recognises me though, so I reckon tha's as good a sign as anythin'. Anyway," he added conspiratorially, "he might be useful, yer know, in the War an' all."  
"What happened with the Centaurs?" asked Hermione, remembering that the last time she saw Grawp he was chasing them through the forest.  
"Ahh, yer, erm," mumbled Hagrid, clearly wishing that she hadn't asked. "Erm, thin' is, erm after 'e, er, squashed a few of 'em" Hagrid stared at his large feet, not looking at Hermione's horrified expression.  
"They decided to leave the forest"  
For a while no one said anything, then Hermione managed to squeak "That's really bad"  
Harry disagreed; he was quite pleased about the departure of a few arrogant horses "That's upset the equilibrium in the forest" she continued Ron, Hagrid and Harry looked at her blankly.  
"There's a new top predator" she said in exasperation This explanation didn't have the effect she was hoping "Grawp is now racing round eating whatever comes across his path" she continued "Yeh, true" agreed Hagrid "'e was eatin' on of 'em spiders the other day"  
Ron went pale.  
"'e start'd by pullin off 'is legs..." Ron dashed from his seat to the large white kitchen sink on the other side of the Hagrid's wooden hut, and hung his head inside it.  
"'n then, 'e bit it's 'ead off"  
Ron started coughing "'n the other day, I caught 'im chewin' 'arf dozen up. Could see all their legs 'angin' out o' 'is mouth"  
The sound of Ron retching and the splatter of his breakfast on the bottom of the sink interrupted Hagrid.  
"Oh. Sorry. I forgot yeh don't like 'em" apologised Hagrid Hermione looked at Harry then rolled her eyes.  
Despite the fiercely glowing fire in front of him, Harry suddenly felt himself grow cold. He saw Hermione give him a furtive glance, but he purposely didn't look back.  
"So, how's yer classes been?" Hagrid asked.  
"Not bad," Harry replied, shaking himself out of his reverie.  
"Charms was so much more complex than last year! It was great...!"  
"Potions is still a nightmare..."  
Hagrid chuckled.  
  
Harry's DA meeting that evening was much less successful. They tried the hallucination jinx which left half the class giggling on the floor at the strange shapes chasing each other around the room for half an hour while Hermione looked up the counter jinx. Unfortunately when it was Ron's turn, he saw dementors, and ran up and down the corridors shouting and trying to cast the patronus charm.  
  
Such was his terror that he had to be stunned before the counter jinx could be applied.  
  
The following morning, as they sat at the breakfast table Ron looked ashamed of himself again.  
  
"Don't worry about it" said Hermione "it's a natural reaction to what's happened. Harry was feeling exactly the same after Cedric and Sirius died, weren't you Harry"  
  
"Yeah" he replied, really wanting Hermione not to drag up the past. "Don't worry about it"  
  
The arrival of the owls brought a letter for Ron and a change of subject.  
  
"Mum's cancelled Christmas this year" he read gloomily  
  
"Well I suppose that under the circumstances" said Hermione  
  
"Wait. She's written that we will be having a meal on Christmas day and you both are invited, if you want"  
  
Harry said "Yes" immediately, but Hermione wanted to ask her parents first. 


	6. Chapter 6

December  
  
Winter brought with it an excessive amount of snow, arriving the last week in November and not letting up until two days before the Christmas holidays, and the Great Lake had frozen solid. There was no good news in The Daily Prophet; just more mysterious disappearances, muggle torturings and killings. The bad news seemed t worsen every day. However, the feelings of despair wore off in the last week before Christmas and were replaced with the excitement of the season. A loud crack announced Dobby's arrival in the Dormitory and woke everyone in the room.  
"Dobby wishes Harry Potter and Weazy a Merry Christmas" he squeaked happily.  
Dobby raised his eyes and looked at Harry."Dobby and the other elves is very lucky Headmaster Dumbledore sends them here to have fun in the holidays. The house elf was oblivious at the murderous glare Ron shot him.  
"Dobby thinks, Master Weazy needs to like Christmas more." The house elf looked sincerely worried about the situation. "I knows! Dobby will sing happy Christmas songs to Master Weazy and he will like Christmas better."Much to everyone's horror, Dobby launched himself into an off-key rendition of a Jingle Bells, followed by Silent Night. Dobby missed all the high notes, was flat on the low ones, and no one was sorry when he stopped.  
  
The Great Hall had been decorated with live fairies, massive twenty-foot tall trees and mounds of food. The suits of armour shone and were decorated with mistletoe and holly. As with previous years, they had been enchanted to sing carols, and once again, Peeves hid inside, calling out bad words. A few of the younger students found this amusing, while Harry thought it was just annoying. Presents were exchanged among friends, songs sang between classes, giggles from girls who had been given presents and sweets from boys, and blushes from boys rewarded by kisses.  
Harry sat next to Ron in the Great Hall, with Hermione and Ginny on the other side of the table. He felt miserable. Some Christmas this was going to be, he thought "I really hope Dobby isn't going to do that every day until Christmas" said Ron "What?" asked Ginny "Sing Christmas Carols first thing in the morning."  
"I think that's really festive" said Hermione "Not the way Dobby does it."  
The morning owls arrived with the mail, dropping letters, packages and presents all over the house tables. Harry picked up the small package from his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. He reluctantly unwrapped it, then looked inside, surprised at the contents. He remembered what Arthur Weasley had told them before taking Harry away for the summer, warning them to send a real present to their nephew this Christmas. But he never would have expected to see this. Inside was a new watch, a thick black leather band wrapped around a piece of parchment, which simply read, "Happy Holidays."  
Harry slipped the watch on, and then looked down to the letter that lay in his plate of eggs, kippers and toast, reading the handwriting. Lupin had been writing to him weekly, taking up where Sirius had left off. Harry smiled. It was nice to have an adult in his life, who was just a friend. It made loosing his godfather seem less painful somehow. Harry opened the letter, glancing up to see Ginny reading one from her parents. He read the words and smiled. Lupin assured him that he would be joining the Weasley family during the Christmas holidays. He also said he had something serious he wanted Harry to help him with.  
  
Class was over before he knew it, and he suddenly regretted it. Since Tonks began teaching the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, it had been an exciting experience. She had taught them to block spells and hexes, reviewing the past five years of training, then started teaching more of the defences against spells and curses Voldemort would likely use. She had spent an entire week discussing the Unforgivable Curses, and the reasons they were called Unforgivable. But more than just the lessons, it was her entire outlook and personality. She was always cheerful, upbeat and happy and made everyone a part of the class, bringing them into the subject and involving them in the discussions. Only the Slytherins appeared not to enjoy them.  
The last day of school was a blur of anticipation. The castle was buzzing with happy chatter, songs and eager packing.  
Harry awoke before dawn on Christmas Eve, packed his trunk and showered before the first rays of light even broke over the horizon. Breakfast was eaten in a hurry as many students awoke late, and the train would leave on time, regardless of who was packed and who wasn't. Harry helped Ron finish his last minute packing.  
  
The December air was cold and harsh, numbing yet awakening as they stood on the platform waiting to board the Express. Eventually Harry, Ron and Hermione clambered on just before the train's whistle sounded. The Hogwarts Express lurched forward onto the tracks out of Hogsmeade around ten o'clock, taking with it a load of anxious students. The year had proven less than what everyone had expected it to be, and much calmer. Everyone was eager to go home, yet already talking about coming back. Harry had agreed to start up the D.A. club again, when they returned from holiday, which made the members eager for Christmas to be over with. Dumbledore had agreed to allow the D.A. to continue, but insisted they continue to keep it a secret. The last thing they needed was for the Dark Lord to find out what lessons were being taught. He liked the idea of keeping Voldemort off guard when the time came.  
Hermione and Ron had Prefect duties to perform, and were gone during most of the morning. Harry found an empty compartment to sit in. It wasn't long before someone poked their head inside.  
"Hello, Harry," Luna Lovegood greeted. She was still dressed in her Hogwarts robes, her long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. She came inside the compartment and sat across from him, not asking if the seat was already taken.  
Harry didn't mind. It had been a while since he'd talked to Luna. He still felt that he owed her for all of the help she gave him last year. "Hi, Luna," he replied cordially. "How are you?"  
"Fine. A bit bored though."  
"Bored?" he questioned.  
She nodded. "You know, Harry, some of us don't have anything to do but D.A. The serious lack of meetings has been troubling."  
"Oh." Harry frowned. He didn't realise that anyone was upset over it. However, it was true that he wasn't as active as he was last year. He felt like his life was total chaos this year. But after Christmas, he could relax a little more. He wouldn't have to worry about Quidditch or Occlumency. In fact, things were looking up after the new year. "I'm sorry, Luna. I've just been really busy this year. But we'll have more meetings when we get back. I promise."  
  
Luna seemed satisfied with his response. "I heard you're spending Christmas with the Weasleys."  
"Er, yeah, I am."  
"Maybe we'll run into each other over the holidays," she said, smiling at him.  
Harry shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He forgot that the Lovegoods lived near the Weasleys. "Maybe we will."  
Harry sat back and gazed out the window, watching as Hogwarts started to disappear from the horizon.  
The compartment remained silent, except for the sound of Luna filddling with her Butterbeer bottle cap necklace. Harry glanced at her. She looked nervous about something.  
  
"My father would really like to meet you," she announced. "He wouldn't mind doing a follow-up interview, either. He wanted to do one earlier, but I told him to wait."  
"A follow-up interview about what?" Harry questioned. "Nothing's really happened..."  
"The breakout," Luna interrupted. "But I think he may have his own agenda. The Quibbler has been having some problems."  
"Problems?"  
Luna hesitated. "Financial ones." She turned and looked out the window, still playing with the bottle caps around her neck. "After the article last year, well, certain parties decided to pull their funding. My father has been trying to get by on subscriptions alone. It would really help us out if you could do another interview."  
"Of course I could," Harry replied.  
Luna's head snapped toward him, her silver eyes looking more surprised than usual. "You will?"  
Harry nodded. "I don't mind. After all, you risked your life for me last year. The least I could do is help your father out."  
Luna grinned broadly. "Thank you, Harry. It will be tasteful. I promise. You could even have Rita Skeeter do it again."  
"Er... I'll have to talk it over with Hermione first." He wasn't entirely sure that Rita could do a tasteful piece on him without the aid of Hermione's blackmail   
  
The Hogwart's Express pulled into King's Cross, and Harry's spirits lifted a little. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were waiting for them on platform 93/4, along with the two identical red-heads at her side. Harry, Ron, and Hermione said goodbye to Luna and quickly got off the Hogwarts Express. Hermione found her bags and her parents, and said that she would see everyone at the Weasley's for dinner. Harry was gathering his trunk when he felt pain explode on his leg.  
"Ouch," Harry cursed as Ron pushed his trunk into his shin.  
Ron turned around. "Sorry," he muttered.  
"Oh, I've missed all of you so much," Mrs. Weasley said, embracing each of them in turn. They left the platform and walked between the walls that led to the Muggle world.  
It was snowing lightly as Harry followed the Weasleys to the Ministry car. The sleek, black sedan looked normal from the outside, but as Mr. Weasley loaded everyone's baggage into the trunk, Harry could see that it was bewitched. There was no way any normal car could hold so many things, nor so many people. Harry slid between George and Ron into the backseat, which fit all of the children quite comfortably. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat in the front.  
The ride to the Burrow seemed to take unnaturally long, even though it was a Ministry car that moved at top speed through Britain - much faster than any normal car. Mrs. Weasley kept asking them questions about their lessons and Quidditch and about Ginny's O.W.L. preparation. Finally, George said, "For crying out loud, mum! Would you give them a break? They just got home from school; they don't want to relive the whole term!"  
"Mind your manners, George," Mr. Weasley scolded.  
Mrs. Weasley sighed.  
  
The sun hung red and low on the horizon. When they arrived at Ottery St. Catchpole it was snowing a lot heavier. Mr. Weasley betwtiched the trunks to let themselves into the Burrow and find their ways into the proper rooms.  
  
Hermione arrived at the house early evening to find all of the Weasleys and Harry gathered around the fire in the lounge room, sipping cocoa and listening to Fred tell a joke "And then he said, 'You're looking quite nice this evening. Either that, or someone spiked the egg nog!'" Fred delivered the punchline and the entire family bellowed with laughter. Hermione smiled as she found an empty place in front of the fire. Ginny handed her a mug and she took a sip of the cocoa, the warmth instantly enveloping her.  
"So, Mum," George began. "Have I ever told you how you're my favourite mother in the whole wide world?"  
"I've already said no, George," Molly Weasley said firmly. "And no amount of flattery will get you anywhere. You cannot open a present now. It's not Christmas until tomorrow." A collective groan from all those present sounded.  
  
"Did you tell him about the Order?" asked Fred Mrs. Weasley, who had been rummaging in the cupboard, looking for the condiments dropped the container she held in her hands. "Oh dear." She quickly bent over to pick it up, and Ginny was quickly on her hands and knees helping her mother.  
"What about the Order?" Harry questioned.  
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exchanged glances. "We didn't tell them yet," Mrs. Weasley said to George. She wrung her hands nervously.  
"Tell us what?"  
"Now Molly, you have a seat" Mr. Weasley said, taking his wife by the shoulders and forcing her into one of the chairs at the table.  
"You two are going to put me into an early grave!" Mrs. Weasley shouted, shaking a finger at the twins.  
"Come on, mum," Fred said. "We've been through all the dramatics before. We'll tell them."  
"Tell us what?" Ginny demanded. She, too, took a seat at the table.  
Without looking at one another, George and Fred seemed to communicate in that secretive way twins do. "We're joining the Order," they said together.  
"What?!" Ginny cried. "You can't be serious."  
"We are," George continued. "Dead serious."  
Mrs. Weasley gave him a smack on the head. "Don't say that."  
"But how...?" Harry began.  
"We're of legal age," Fred said. "It was brought up at a meeting, thanks to Charlie, and the Order discussed it, and after a unanimous vote, we're in."  
"Unanimous?" Ginny glanced at her parents. "How could you vote in favour of such a ridiculous idea?" Harry was wondering how they managed to convince Snape to be in favour.  
"They're going to be participants in this war whether we allow them in the Order or not," Mr. Weasley explained. "At least this way, we will know what they're up to and we might be able to have some control over their actions."  
Mrs. Weasley sighed heavily. "It's the safest way for them to help. They will not sit idly by."  
"Which was exactly what our winning argument was," Fred said to Harry and Ginny. "I imagine if you two use the same tactic, they may let you in as well..."  
"Don't get any ideas," Mr. Weasley interrupted. Mrs. Weasley looked positively infuriated at the suggestion that her youngest child and the Boy Who Lived should join such a dangerous clan. Mr. Weasley continued. "You're not of age yet, and even then... then it could be over. For the better, of course," he added.  
"This isn't proper dinnertime conversation," Mrs. Weasley said. "And I wouldn't count your chickens before they hatch, boys. You've not been inducted yet." There was a glimmer of mother's hope in her eyes. "So I was thinking that after Boxing Day, if the weather is not too terrible, we'll all take a trip to Diagon Alley for some shopping before you go back to school."  
  
"And to see the joke shop," George interjected, turning to Harry. "It's quite amazing, if I do say so myself. We've had some big sellers this holiday season. We could give you a real deal on the last of our Dainty Diabolical Dragon Eggs..."  
  
"Where's Bill then?" asked Ron "He's spending the holidays with Fleur and her family," Fred said. "I imagine after this he'll change his mind and come back home without her."  
Mrs. Weasley's jaw dropped. "Fred!"  
"Rotten thing to say, really," George said. "Surely it'll be the other way around. Bill never behaves the best during the holidays. The Delacours will send him packing before midnight. He always said the holidays were more for causing mischief than celebration."  
"Indeed," Mr. Weasley chuckled. "Advice you two took to heart at a very young age."  
Fred and George exchanged mischievous grins. Harry was glad to see that after so many changes this term, the twins' playful demeanours were the same.  
  
Dinner that evening was joyful and happy, the tension that had developed in the car was gone. The peace was disturbed when the fireplace erupted into huge green flames, then died down to reveal Lupin.  
  
"Sorry to interrupt your meal" he apologised "but I have some sad news from The Order". Lupin looked better than he had done recently, but the lines on his face were more pronouced in the fire light.  
  
"What happened?" asked Mr Weasley.  
"Neville Longbottom's grandmother owled Dumbledore shortly after the Hogwart's Express left Hogsmeade. Neville's mother died last night, from complications of her treatment for her injuries caused by the Death Eaters."  
"Oh no," Ginny whispered.  
"Alice Longbottom was a very good friend, and a loyal member of the Order. She'll be missed greatly," Lupin added. Silence fell around the room, as they all sat contemplating the news.  
  
Lupin joined them for mince pies, but didn't stay long. Hermione left by Floo Powder soon after, promising to meet them in Diagon Alley later in the week.  
  
Harry lay in bed, in the room he shared with Ron, staring at the ceiling. It was nearly dawn, and he had yet to find a way to sleep. He couldn't help but think about all that had happened that year; Sirius, Percy & now Mrs Longbottom. He knew others would join in the fight, The Order already had several new members; and the DA meetings were popular with the students of Hogwart's, but Voldemort seemed to be picking members of the order off one by one, just like last time.  
  
He looked out of the window. It was cold outside and the sky had the same washed out colours of one of those water colour paintings of winter skies. It had stopped snowing, but it still lay thick on the ground.  
  
Harry sighed and rolled over onto his stomach, burying his head beneath his pillow. His head hurt, his eyes burned with fatigue and his jaw throbbed in pain from where he'd been clenching it. Then a thought came to his mind. It was Christmas day and everyone would be awake soon.  
As if on cue, the bed next to him creaked and Ron in it stirred This year, and just as every holiday for the past six years that Harry could remember, Ron was eager to see what presents awaited him. He fought back a yawn, as he heard his name whispered in the stillness. Harry contemplated for several minutes whether or not to answer, but knew from previous experience; Ron Weasley wouldn't give up that easily. Harry sat up, tossing his pillow aside.  
  
"Happy Christmas," Ron croaked glancing down to the foot of their bed, where a stack of presents sat.  
"Happy Christmas," Harry answered sluggishly, following Ron's lead and reaching for the presents and tearing at the wrapping. There were the usual books from Hermione, Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans from Ron, while Hagrid sent along a large supply of his home-made fudge (which neither were eager to eat) and Mrs. Weasley had once again knitted them their matching jumpers.  
"You look awful mate," said Ron.  
"I didn't sleep much,"  
"I wonder how Neville is holding up," Ron said after a moment. "It can't be easy for him. Remember how he acted last year, when his mum gave him the sweet wrapper? I can't imagine how it must be having your parents like that, but then to loose one. It has to be horrible."  
"Sometimes I think I'm lucky, to never have known my parents. At least I was too young to grieve their deaths."  
  
"Don't you ever get tired of this?" Ron asked, leaning back on his bed.  
"Tired of what?" Harry asked.  
"Every year, something else happens and every year, we end up having to battle someone evil and sinister. Is it too much to ask, for just one normal year?" Harry smiled. It could only take the illogical mind of Ronald Weasley to make the obvious seem so simple Breakfast was a flurry of utensils, while everyone ate at a hasty pace. No presents were allowed to be opened until everyone had finished eating, which meant whether you were hungry or not, you had to clean your plate and wait patiently for the others. Not an easy task for Ron, who finished first and spent the next half hour shifting in his seat or tapping his fingers on the table. Mrs. Weasley became so irritated with her son's noise that she threatened to put a tear proof charm on all of the wrappings if he didn't sit still.  
"Now can we open presents?" Ron grumbled, as his father - the last to finish eating, pushed his plate aside and reached for his coffee mug. Mr. Weasley looked from his son to his wife, who began to gather the empty dishes.  
  
"Very well, but be warned; it's only token presents because of ... .... circumstances" sighed Mrs. Weasley, then had to stand aside as the table's occupants suddenly seemed to explode out of their seats and hurry into the next room. Ron was first to the door, but it was the twins who made it into the sitting room first, having tripped their younger brother in the hallway, sending him spiralling into the closet across the hall. Harry and Ginny took a slower pace of walking, yet were anxiously among those who found seats on the old worn carpet around the tree  
  
Ron opened his presents with the zest of a child, smiling at the new wizard chess set from Lupin and Tonks, a package of wizard treats from the twins (which he carefully put aside, afraid of them blowing up in his face), and a book of Quidditch plays from Harry that actually had miniature players who zoomed around a replica of a Quidditch pitch while each play was explained in detail  
  
Harry opened his gifts, with a renewed excitement he hadn't felt in months. Lupin and Tonks had both given him books on the Dark Arts; gifts he promised himself to read before the next D.A. meeting. The twins favoured him with a matching box of wizard treats - which he also carefully put aside  
  
Mrs Weasley caught sight of the boxes and raised her eyebrows. "I thought I told you that those 'products' were to be confined solely to the shop? Wasn't there some forfeit imposed should some accidentally find their way home with you?"  
  
Conversation continued as the rest of the group opened their presents. Once they had all settled down Mr. Weasley passed out the mugs of eggnog and lifted his in the air.  
"A toast," he said, watching as everyone followed suit. "To family and friends, where ever they maybe"  
"To family," they cheered, sipping the sweet liquid.  
  
Darkness fell quickly and early. Charlie lit a roaring fire in the huge fireplace in the living room. Everyone settled around with glasses of mead or eggnog, the lucky ones on the sofa and threadbare armchairs, the others sprawled on the floor  
  
The house seemed to remain alive with useless chatter and activity, until late in the night. Harry stayed up for quite a while, and then eventually went up to bed. He had hoped that by going upstairs, it would give the rest of the group the idea that it was getting late, but it didn't' seem to have worked. Harry lay awake in his bed, tapping his fingers together and anxiously shifting from one position to another but still couldn't sleep. He was incredibly tired, as he didn't sleep properly the previous night. Ron had come to bed over an hour ago, and was now snoring like a hog. The sounds of voices continued to echo up the stairs, although not as many as before  
  
The voices faded. Harry was looking down at his boney white hands  
  
"My Lord" said a husky voice "I beg your pardon"  
  
"What is it" Harry replied  
  
Bellatrix Lestrange stepped into the room and walked across the stone floor.  
  
"It is done. He will trouble us no more"  
  
"Good. Soon there will be no one to thwart my plans" Harry replied  
  
"They are recruiting more members, many more than last time."  
  
"It makes little difference. They will all die once my death eaters are free, and The Order will cease to exist. That Phoenix won't rise again from it's ashes"  
  
Harry was woken early the following morning by the sound of Ron's snoring. Obediently he wrote his dream in the diary as he had been instructed to by Professor Snape.  
  
A flock of owls arrived at breakfast. The first carried a message from Hogwarts addressed to Ron informing him that the postponed quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin would be played on the first weekend of the new term. Harry had an owl, and the Daily Prophet arrived.  
  
AUROR FOUND DEAD  
  
Kinsgley Shaklebolt was found dead last night under mysterious circumstances. His body was found by a muggle outside his home in Buckinghamshire. As yet, the Ministry of Magic has refused to comment on rumours that Aurour Shaklebolt was tracking He-Who-Must- Not- Be - Named.  
  
"No" said Mrs Weasley "it can't be true"  
  
"Whasat?" asked Ron, his mouth full of toast.  
  
Mrs Weasley laid the paper on the table, and everyone read the headline.  
  
"It's just like last time" sobbed Mrs Weasley.  
  
"No one said this was going to be easy" said Mr Weasley, putting his arm around her. "There were always going to be sacrifices"  
  
Harry decided that now was not the best time to tell everyone about his latest vision. He opened his letter; it was from Luna.  
  
"Luna's father wants to meet me" Harry said, hoping to change the subject.  
  
"Doesn't he edit The Quibbler" asked Mr Weasley  
  
"Yeah" replied Harry "Luna says that he's in financial difficulties, so I agreed to do another interview"  
  
"That's interesting" said Mr Wealsey "mind if I come with you?"  
  
"Course not. I'll say I'm okay for tomorrow"  
  
Hedwig was dispatched shortly carrying his reply. Harry gazed as she disappeared into the distance; her white feathers soon made her invisible against the snowy landscape and mottled light grey clouds.  
The mood in The Burrow was subdued. Kingsley Shaklebolt's death and Mrs Weasley's claim that they would all be dead by next Christmas had shaken everyone. Harry was glad he hadn't mentioned his vision.  
  
Predictably it was Fred and George that cheered up Ron & Harry by suggesting a trip to Diagon Alley to visit the joke shop.  
  
"I'll phone Hermione, and she can meet us there" said Ron excitedly.  
  
The twins sniggered. "Is she your girlfriend?"  
  
"No. She just a friend, like Harry" said Ron heatedly, but his glowing ears told a different story.  
  
"Oh. Do you fancy Harry as well then?" asked Fred  
  
"THAT'S ENOUGH" bellowed Mrs Weasley. "and take Ginny with you as well"  
  
In contrast to the crowded Muggle shops, Diagon Alley was very quiet. The wizard world obviously didn't bother with end of season sales. The thick grey clouds were racing across the sky and the clap of thunder echoed overhead. The clock at the end of the street behind him chimed three, but no one heard it above the roar of the wind.  
"Not much going on today" said Ron as he, Harry, Ginny, Hermione and the twins sat inside Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour eating ice cream, watching the rain run down the windows and listening to the wind rattle the door. Harry remembered when he had sat outside in the summer studying History of Magic. That was the year he blew up Aunt Majorie he thought, and smiled to himself.  
"Why aren't we going to Wealsey's Wizarding Weases?" asked Ginny. "I want to see the shop"  
"Have you seen how much rain there is outside?" asked Fred sarcastically. He had a point. There was a stream running down the middle of the narrow street "As your financial backer, I think I'm entitled to see the premises" joked Harry, pushing his finished sundae into the middle of the table.  
"Okay. But I don't want anyone to get to excited about it" said George. He sounded uncharacteristically nervous.  
"Yeah. And if you get swept away in a flood, it's your own fault" said Fred.  
The others quickly finished their ice cream, and put their robes on, ready to face the awful weather, which turned out to be as bad as it looked. The wind blasted the rain against their faces and blew their robes like sails. The twins started running, and Harry followed them, running as hard as he could to keep up with them, but soon they disappeared in the gloom.  
He reached the red door of 93 Diagon Alley, but the twins were no where to be seen. The others caught up, looking drenched.  
"Come on! Open up!" shouted Ginny banging on the door with her fists. The door was jerked open and Ginny tumbled in. Her brothers emerged from behind it and picked her up. Harry, Ron and Hermione hurried in after her.  
"Why didn't we go by Floo powder?" asked Hermione, wringing out her long hair.  
"Not hooked up yet" explained Fred "Did you think we enjoyed being almost drowned?"  
Even Harry, who disliked travelling by the Floo network, would have been prepared to make an exception this time.  
The joke shop was even more extraordinary than Harry had envisioned it. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had evolved significantly. Harry chuckled when he remembered when they were caught printing up order forms back at the Burrow.  
Harry walked up and down the isles of gags and gifts. The twins had really outdone themselves with some of the items in the store. "You are definitely going to put Zonko's out of business" said Ron picking up some Skiving Snackboxes. There was a display marked "NEW LINES" with some new flavours on it. He picked out a handful of Peppermint Ice, a tiny chew with red and white stripes. They claimed to give someone such a terrible case of the chills that his nose would run and his eyes water until frost gathered on his eyelashes.  
"I'm glad to see my investment is...." began Harry BANG A loud explosion, followed by screams and shouts interrupted him "Wasn't me" said Fred grinning and turning round to look out into the street. The wind had eased and the rain ceased, but the impenetrable steel sky kept the sun hidden.  
More explosions and shouting drew the six of them into the street. Black smoke belched from Fortescues Ice Cream parlour. A cloaked figure was running towards them, a wand in his hand, pointing it at Harry.  
"NO!" Ron shouted, grabbing at Harry's arm and dragging him out of the way.  
"Expelliarmus," Hermione shouted and watched as the robed figure flew through the air, landing face down a few feet away, in a crumpled mass of dark robes. Loud pops announced the apparition of several Aurours led by a man Harry recognised as Dawlish.  
"Incarsourous" he said, and the mysterious assailant was bound from shoulders to ankles in thick ropes.  
"Well done" said Dawlish, turing to look at Hermione who smiled and turned pink "We'll deal with him from here" he continued. The other Aurours had picked up the suspect. He had long dark, lank hair and a boney face. It was nobody that anyone recognised.  
"Who is he?" asked Harry, white with shock.  
"Could be a Death Eater, or someone being controlled by the imperious curse" replied a tall Auror. "we'll find out"  
Ron looked along the alley towards the remains of Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Deep orange flames as well as the black smoke were pouring from the shop front. When the wind caught the smoke it blew it along the street towards them obscuring the shops at the other end.  
"We were in there twenty minutes ago" said Ginny, her voice shaking. Harry looked round at her. She was biting her nails and leaning against George, who had his arm round her. "You had better return home" said Dawlish. "Your parents will be worried when they find out what's happened. I suggest you use the fireplace in The Leaky Cauldron"  
Another just of wind blew the acrid smoke inot their faces.  
"Can we move?" coughed Hermione As they trudged up Diagon Alley to The leaky Cauldron, Harry was amazed at how many people were wandering about now. Not all of them were witches and wizards - he spotted a hag, some dwarves, and even two hairy creatures he couldn't recognise standing outside of the Leaky Cauldron sharing a pipe Mrs Weasley was relived to see all of them fall out of the fireplace. News of the attack had just been reported on the radio news.  
  
Harry looked outside through the window. In confirmation of winter's shorter days, the dreary sky was beginning to darken.  
  
The morning of the interview with Mr Lovegood arrived. Harry & Mr Weasley were going to travel to the Lovegood's house by one of Harry's least favourite forms of transport; Floo powder. It was second on his list of hated forms of transport only to the Knight Bus.  
  
"Ready Harry?" asked Mr Weasley, once breakfast was over.  
  
"Can't we walk instead?" answered Harry  
  
"Floo Powder is fast and convenient! But whatever you do, don't sneeze!"  
  
"All right then" grimaced Harry  
  
"Right" said Mr Weasley, stepping into the fire, "what's the name of their house?"  
  
"Erm..." replied Harry, now standing next to him  
  
"I see. Well erm... The Lovegood's house" he called and threw a handful of floo powder into the fire. Instantly the flames turned green and rose higher, and Harry felt himself start to spin.  
  
The familiar twirling sensation ended and Harry and Mr Weasley landed in a large stone fireplace amid red and orange flames.  
  
The Lovegood's house had the appearance of being owned by a formerly wealthy family that had fallen on hard times. The wallpaper was faded, and the wooden table that stood in the centre of the room was battered in places. On the wall hung paintings of mythical creatures, and the occasional blurred photograph. It wasn't as untidy as The Burrow, but then it only had Luna & her dad living there.  
  
A short man with greying hair entered the room. Like the house, he also appeared to have been wealthy, but was going through lean times. He looked tired.  
  
"Harry" said Mr Lovegood shaking his hand warmly "thanks for coming. How are you?  
  
"Er fine thanks" he replied  
  
"And you must be Arthur Weasley" continued Mr Lovegood, taking a step towards Mr Weasley and grasping him by the hand.  
  
"So then, why don't you following me into the sitting room  
  
They followed him into the next room, which was in a similar state to the first room, and also had pictures of strange creatures. There were also pictures of Luna and a woman who Harry supposed was her mother.  
  
"Please, sit down" gestured Mr Lovegood to the light green flowery sofa was a bit worn in places  
  
"Now then Harry, Luna's told me all about you, and your little adventure in the Ministry" began Mr Lovegood.  
  
Harry's stomach lurched. He hadn't expected this, and found himself feeling defensive.  
  
"I don't know if Luna's told you, but the Quibbler is going through a sticky patch at the moment"  
  
Harry nodded  
  
"and your interview last year was the best selling issue of the Quibbler ever. What I'd like to do, if you don't mind, is a few follow up pieces, to be serialised in the next few issues."  
  
"Why me?"  
  
"Because, for whatever reason, where ever there's trouble, there's also Harry Potter" smiled Mr Lovegood.  
  
Luna came in with her hair in a ponytail and wearing a dress. She smiled serenely at Harry, who almost didn't recognise her out of her Hogwarts robes, and sat down. Harry smiled back  
  
"I'm going to use a Quick Notes Quill" Mr Lovegood caught the look of distrust on Harry's face. "don't worry, it's not like Rita Skeeters. You can start when you're ready"  
  
Harry took a deep breath. For twenty minutes Mr Lovegood sat silently while his quick notes quill scratched across the surface of the parchment, relaying Harry's story. Harry told them how he'd had visions, and flown to London with his six companions on Thestrals. He told them how it had been a trap, and about the battle. As he told them about Sirius's duel with Bellatrix Lestrange, tears began to roll down his cheeks.  
  
Mr Weasley stood up. "Harry, would excuse us for a moment"  
  
"Luna" said Mr Lovegood, turning to his daughter "why don't you take Harry into the kitchen and make him a drink  
  
They stood & Harry followed her back through the first room and into the kitchen. Apart from the breakfast bowls by the sink, it was spotless. It was on a par with the Dursley's.  
  
"Sorry about the mess" apologised Luna  
  
"What mess?" said Harry leaning against a cupboard  
  
"I normally try to keep the kitchen as clean as possible, in case of... never mind. Pumpkin juice okay?" asked Luna  
  
She poured two glasses and walked over to Harry  
  
"It's really brave of you," said Luna handing him his drink and smiling at him, "talking about painful memories like that"  
  
Harry removed his glasses and wiped his eyes. "Thanks". He took a sip of his juice  
  
"Dad really appreciates it. People don't seem to want to know about Crumpled Horn Snorcacks anymore"  
  
"Oh" said Harry, who wasn't interested in them either.  
  
"Don't worry. He's not gone for good" said Luna, changing the subject suddenly.  
  
"Yeah, you said last year. How come it feels like it?"  
  
"We'll talk to Mrytle when we get back to Hogwarts. She knows"  
  
"Knows what?" asked Harry  
  
"You'll see" said Luna enigmatically  
  
Harry sighed. Is Luna as mad as people say or does she really know something? Luna had seen the Thestrals and could hear the voices beyond the veil. Could he really talk to Sirius again?  
  
"Nearly Headless Nick didn't think Sirius would come back" Harry point out "I asked him. He said he'd gone on"  
  
"He's an older ghost" replied Luna  
  
"What difference does it make?" asked Harry puzelled  
  
"It makes all the difference"  
  
Harry looked up at the ceiling. Amongst the decorations was sprig of mistletoe, and it was hanging directly above him. He hadn't spoken to anyone about Sirius, not even Ron or Hermione, but he felt comfortable talking to Luna, and perhaps she could help him  
  
Luna moved closer. "Don't worry. There aren't any Nargles in this one"  
  
"What's so bad about Nargles?" asked Harry, not believing for one minute that they even existed.  
  
"If you kiss someone under Nargle infested mistletoe, your relationship will be cursed"  
  
That would explain what happened with Cho then, thought Harry to himself. Suddenly he found Luna's mouth stuck to his.  
  
It was only when the sound of footsteps in the next room could be heard that Luna broke off, just before her father and Mr Weasley appeared at the door.  
  
"Right then," said Mr Weasley "we're all done here. You finished Harry?"  
  
"Er yeah. " he replied "Erm for the moment anyway", glancing sideways at Luna  
  
"Good. Back to The Burrow then. I don't want to leave Molly on her own in case she starts worrying, especially after Tuesday"  
  
"Bye" said Harry,as he walked out of the kitchen, still a bit shell shocked.  
  
"See you at school" smiled Luna  
  
As Harry followed Mr Weasley back to the fireplace, he felt happy; firstly because he and Luna had gone on so well and then there was the possibility of seeing Sirius again.  
  
The spinning stopped and they emerged from the fireplace at The Burrow.  
  
"As you're not being paid for the interview" said Mr Weasley, "Mr Lovegood has agreed to print various pieces for the order"  
  
Harry smiled. If he was going to be kissed by Luna after every interview, he'd tell Mr Lovegood anything he wanted. 


	7. Chapter 7

January  
  
"It's Hermione's favourite day" joked Ron "back to Hogwarts" Secretly, Harry was looking forward to Hogwarts; he'd see Luna, and maybe Sirius. He felt happier than he had done for a long time, and that the dark days were finally over; he was slowly creeeping back to life. Downstairs, the noise and hustle of last minute packing and preparations were under way, as usual. Mrs. Weasley was busy preparing snacks for the trip, while Mr. Weasley and the twins were busy loading the trunks into the cars secured from the Ministry of Magic. The day was proving to be the same as any last day, and Harry smiled. It was just the sort of hustle and bustle he loved; it made him feel like a member of a real family. The Dursley's never had last minute rushing, everything was prepared the night before and a tight schedule was made and kept for leaving wherever they went. It was utterly boring.  
"Ginny did you get everything?" Mrs. Weasley began coming out of the kitchen. "Oh, Ronald, tie your shoes, and Harry dear, do straighten your hair."  
"It doesn't straighten," Harry grumbled reaching up and trying his best to flatten his hair down.  
"Yes, well, do your best dear," Mrs. Weasley said again, as George came down the stairs carrying Ginny's trunk. Fred smiled at Harry ruffling his already messy hair and snickering.  
"Much better, Harry dear," he teased, as Harry batted his hands away, turning and frowning at Ginny.  
"What? They're your problem."  
"They're your brothers," he grumbled.  
"Not by choice. I didn't ask for them."  
"Are we going or not?" Moody asked rushing back into the house. "We'll not be able to keep these Muggles distracted for much longer."  
"Yes, yes, we're ready. Come on you three, we haven't much time." Mrs. Weasley ushered the rest out of the house and paused to make certain everything was taken, and then hurried to the cars with the rest of them.  
"Do you think we'll ever have a calm exit when it comes to leaving for the train?" Ron asked bitterly.  
"I doubt it," Harry said, taking a seat between brother and sister.  
The cars pulled up at Kings Cross at fifteen minutes to eleven, and everyone felt the rush of making it through the portal in time. Ron and Harry secured trolleys, loading the trunks on them and hurrying toward wall between platforms nine and ten. Ron had nearly reached it, when he heard his name called out, turning to see Hermione rushing toward him followed by her parents.  
Ron helped load Hermione's trunk on his trolley and quickly bid the two farewell, hurrying toward the wall. Harry and Ginny passed through it first, followed by a very silent Hermione and Ron. They loaded their trunks on the train and exchanged hugs with the Weasley's in time to hear the whistle blow. They had barely found an empty compartment, when the train pulled away from the station and they were on their way back to school.  
Harry sat beside Ginny and sighed. As much as he enjoyed the holidays, he was glad they were over. Too much happened in such a short time, that he couldn't even comprehend there being enough time in the day to accommodate it all.  
  
With the holidays behind them, the foursome were able to settle into a somewhat normal routine. Quidditch practices began on schedule and classes were as always, loaded down with assignments and homework. The weather had proven to be anything other than friendly, and Ron had been forced to call off practice once already this week, which put him in a dark mood. He had so far managed to earn demerits from Professor Snape as well as Professor Avis, and it was only Wednesday.  
Harry wasn't fairing much better; Snapes occlumency was dreadful, yet again.  
The common room was quiet with the majority of the students already in bed. Harry was sitting alone at the table in the corner of the room, trying to work out a schedule so he could fit in D.A. lessons. He had managed to cut his sleeping down by an hour, and work out Dark Arts lessons with Tonks, Deadly Potions and Antidotes lessons with Snape, Advanced Transfigurations with McGonagall, the D.A. meetings twice a week but he'd have to miss a few Quidditch practices. Now, if he could only manage to figure out when to get his homework done, he may actually survive this year.  
  
Harry realised that he had forgotten to find Luna and see Moaning Myrtle. It was too late to wake up Luna, but as far as he knew, ghosts didn't sleep. He climbed the dark stone stairway, which was lit only by torches to take his schedule back to his dormitory, swapped it for the Marauders Map, put his invisibility cloak on.  
  
"I solemly swear that I am up to no good" he muttered quietly and tapped the parchment with his wand.  
  
Immediately green lines crossed the map and formed into a plan of Hogwarts Castle. Harry studied the map; two dots, one labelled Peeves, the other Filch were chasing each other along the second floor, Snape was prowling the East wing and Mrs Norris was in the Great Hall. Satisfied that the coast was clear, He made his way to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.  
  
Harry pushed the door open. The bathroom was full of dark shadows where the moonlight couldn't reach. He could hear quiet murmuring coming from the other end of the room.  
  
"Myrtle, are you here" he whispered "it's me, Harry"  
  
"Harry" called a familiar voice, and Luna appeared at the end of the room, next to the basin.  
  
"Luna? What are you doing here?"  
  
"Talking to Myrtle. You haven't been to see me."  
  
"I'm sorry. I wanted to but didn't get the chance" he replied, quickly making up an excuse  
  
"It's okay" Luna smiled as she walked up to him, her shoes clicking on the stone floor and held his hand.  
  
"Erm, sometimes Myrtle gets jealous" said Harry neverously  
  
"No, she's all right with it now"  
  
"Where is she then?"  
  
"I'm right here," said Myrtle gliding out from the cubicle "and stop talking about me as if I'm not here"  
  
"Sorry"  
  
"Myrtle," began Luna "Harry has a friend who has gone over to the 'other' side"  
  
"Oh" she replied, looking a bit happier. Harry was starting to feel that even if Sirius could return as a ghost, he might not want to share Moaning Myrtle's bathroom with her.  
  
"What's his name?" Myrtle asked  
  
"Sirius. Sirius Black"  
  
"I know him" said Myrtle excitedly "he's quite nice"  
  
"He'll need help" called Luna  
  
"Come back tomorrow" said Myrtle as she vanished into the last cublical and down to the u bend with an almighty splash.  
  
Harry turned to look at Luna. "What sort of help?"  
  
"Guidance. To find a way out and into the living world"  
  
"Out of what?"  
  
"The spirit world. Harry, it's getting late and I'm getting tired; will you walk me back to my common room?" asked Luna  
  
Harry couldn't wait for the following evening; he had arrange to meet Luna outside the Ravenclaw common room at eleven o'clock that night. The day passed in a blur; Harry was so tired that he made a complete mess of his enervating solution in potions because he almost fell asleep while Professor Snape was explaining exactly how many times to stir it.  
  
Ron kept asking him if he was all right. The mixture of excitement and tiredness was causing mood swings; he was hungry, but too tired to eat much at lunch, and that only made matters worse.  
  
Ginny insisted that he was suffering from a bug of some description, and should go to Madam Pomfrey , while Hermione was convinced it was all stress related.  
  
"Well, NEWTS are very demanding mentally, but that can also manifest itself physically," she would repeat every hour or so.  
  
Apart from spending some time with Luna, the evening was a bit disappointing. Myrtle had found Sirius, where ever he was, and said his spirit was present in the bathroom, but for some reason he was unable to appear.  
  
"Well it's not easy" moaned Myrtle "it took me ages to learn how to do it"  
  
"I'm sure he'll do it" said Luna in her calm voice "wasn't he supposed to be one of the cleverest students in his year?"  
  
"Yeah, and he was an animagist" replied Harry, trying to hide his disappointment  
  
"Oh, well, if Myrtle can do it, anyone can" Myrtle shrieked as she headed back to the U-bend.  
  
Harry and Luna walked back through the castle under the invisibility cloak to the Ravenclaw common room.  
  
"Well there's always tomorrow" said Luna after they kissed goodnight.  
  
Fortunately there were no classes until the following afternoon, so Harry used the time to catch up on his sleep. Later as he was sitting in a quiet corner of the Gryffindor common room, studying The Advanced Book of Dark Arts and Forbidden Curses., Ron sat next to him, looking rather nervous. Harry looked up and smiled.  
"So, where have you been today?"  
Ron blushed rather profusely. "I was with Hermione. We were talking, and well, Harry, I don't know how to tell you this, so I'm just going to tell you. Harry, Hermione and I are going out now."  
"Good. About time" said Harry. "I was wondering when you two were going to get it together. It really was getting very obvious you know, and it was rather inevitable."  
Ron's jaw dropped. "You don't mind?"  
"Why should I mind?" asked Harry, shutting his book.  
Ron glanced around, making sure no one else was listening. "I thought that you might not like it that Hermione...that is, that she was with me now. I thought maybe that you feel bad that you don't have...anyone." Ron finished rather lamely.  
Harry laughed. "Ron, you're like a brother, and Hermione's like a sister. Why should I worry?"  
"I just thought for awhile that you liked Hermione yourself," Ron admitted.  
Harry looked slightly frustrated. "She's a nice girl. Besides," admitted Harry honestly, "I think I like someone else."  
Ron was stunned. "You like someone else?" He looked suspicious. "You haven't been talking to Cho Chang, have you?"  
Harry laughed. "No, I have not spoken to Cho Chang. I haven't even thought about her in ages. Why would you ask that?" "You did like her for an awfully long time."  
"Well, yeah, until I found out what she was really like. I was pretty stupid about her, really."  
"She was very pretty," said Ron cautiously.  
"Yes, she was, and she was a good seeker. But ... but she wasn't the right girl for me. She was too miserable."  
Ron thought hard. "You aren't getting back together with Parvati, are you?"  
Harry laughed again. "Parvati wouldn't have me, even if I wanted her, which I don't. She'll never forgive me for ignoring her at the Yule ball in the fourth year. She's far too much hard work for me."  
Ron looked triumphant. "Ginny!"  
"What!" Harry looked at Ron as if he'd gone mad, but Ron was too happy to notice.  
"It's Ginny! She's always liked you, and now you're ready to like her back! Wait until Mum hears! She's going to be so pleased!"  
"No, she's not! Sorry to disappoint you and your mother"  
"But why?" wailed Ron.  
"Because Ginny only liked the idea of me. It was like me and Cho. The reality was a bit too much for her, I think." Harry looked down at the table and sighed. "Ron, I really did think about it, but it would never have worked. Ginny is a nice girl. It would have been great if I really could have been your brother, but honestly, whenever I see Ginny, I see her the way she was the day I met her. She's always going to be that little girl running after the train, laughing and crying. I just can't think of her in a personal way. I can't give Ginny what she needs and she can't give me what I need."  
"Who do you think can do that, then?" blurted out Ron.  
Harry looked thoughtful, then said softly, "Luna Lovegood."  
"Looney Luna? Harry, give me a break! You could have almost any girl you wanted. Why would you pick Looney Lovegood?"  
"Don't call her that, anymore," said Harry crossly.  
"It's just that she's so different!" exclaimed Ron.  
"And I'm different to almost everyone around me. No matter how much I want to just be myself, people always look at me differently. It's not like that with Luna. I'm not the boy who survived Voldemort to Luna. I'm just me. I'm just Harry. And I like that. It feels comfortable. Besides, we have a lot in common."  
"Like what? She's a Ravenclaw!"  
"That means she's smart." Said Harry calmly. "She's smarter than she looks, and too smart to settle for believing what she sees on the surface. She sees possibilities, Ron. She's really deep, Ron, and I have a lot of issues that have to be explored in depth. When I saw the thestrals, I though for a minute I was going mad, then Luna reassured me. She heard the voices beyond the veil, and she knows what it's like to lose someone she loved."  
Ron looked at Harry in disbelief.  
"When I get too wrapped up in myself, she can bring me out of it. You can't. Hermione can't. Even Dumbledore can't. You all tried when Sirius died. I couldn't think about anyone but myself. I couldn't see anyone else's problems but my own. And then I saw Luna, and everything cleared up. I admit, I felt sorry for her for a moment instead of for myself, and I shouldn't have done that, but at least I was feeling something again that wasn't focused on me."  
"I suppose she doesn't look to bad." said Ron, trying to get the discussion back to a level he understood.  
"Yeah. There is that as well"  
"What about all that mad stuff she comes out with?" asked Ron  
  
"She's not like that all the time. Only when she's nervous and feels she has to say something"  
  
"Yeah, but she believes it though, doesn't she"  
  
"Don't know. We don't talk about crumpled sneezecacks or whatever they are"  
  
That evening found Harry and Luna in Myrtle's bathroom again. After an hour a pale, wispy, indistinct mist appeared, but then vanished shortly after.  
  
"It was him, I know it" said Harry to Luna as they walked back to their common rooms under the invisibility cloak.  
  
The next day, Harry woke up late to the dripping of the rain. He gazed out of the window at the patchy grey clouds rumbling overhead. It was another dull day.  
  
Ron entered the dormitory. Harry was still lying on the bed, just staring at the rain out of the window blankly.  
A flash of lightning illuminated Harry's face. His green eyes sparkled. One hand flew to his scar, the thumb tracing it. The other hung limply off the side of the bed.  
Forty seconds later, another flash of lightning lit up the sky. Again, Harry traced his scar.  
"Ron is that you?" Harry whispered as if he was scared.  
"I'm right here Harry. I'm right here. You missed this mornings lessons. And lunch"  
Another flash of lightning sent Harry screaming into his pillow. "Thunderstorms," Harry whispered. "I never thought this would happen."  
"What? Oh...erm I'll be right back with Hermione. She's better at these things".;  
Rons footsteps echoed as he ran down the stairs to the common room. Shortly he heard two sets returning, and Ron and Hermione burst into the room.  
The shimmering look of sorrow in Harry's eyes told her all she needed to know. It was his parents, Cedric, and Sirius. There was a lightning strike for each painful memory.  
Then lightning struck again. This time it illuminated Hermione's face. Harry chose that moment to look up at her. Instantly he began to shiver. Her face seemed chalk white, just like after she had seen the basilisk.  
"What's it now?" Hermione asked a little fearfully, sitting on the bed next to him "You in our second year. When I found out you were petrified, you looked so pale. Lightning, when it lights up your face, it does that to you... I have too many bad memories..." Harry trailed off, absently playing with the end of Hermione's sleeve.  
"Yeah I remember our second year. You wanted to go wait by the car, but I said we should do the obviously more dangerous and immature thing and steal my dad's flying car. We almost killed the gearbox while we were at it!" reminisced Ron.  
  
"And then the car decided it was off to live a life of rugged individualism in the Forbidden Forest." Retorted Hermione. And, you two came up with another ultimately failure-bound plan because I wasn't there, She thought to herself Harry still didn't speak for a few minutes. He just hung his head.. His hair was long enough now that it covered his scar. Hermione wondered sadly if he was happy about that. She wondered if he even cared anymore.  
"I really don't know what's going on with me. I just don't feel like myself. Emptiness, that's what fills me up inside," Harry said, not wanting to talk to Hermione and Ron but still speaking the truth.  
"I'm devoid of emotion. I can't feel anything except for sorrow and pain. No one can seem to do anything for me, unless it's someone I can't think of right now. I mean I wake up most days wishing I were someone else. I know it's selfish but I wish that somebody else could suffer for once. I hate most of the things in my life. Every time I think something is going to turn out okay, it always turns out wrong. I don't know anything for certain anymore... its kind of scary. I'm helpless because I'm too dead inside. I suppose there's some 'love' left in there but... I don't know... I think some of me died with my parents and Sirius and even Cedric 'cause I've never been the same after their deaths. I'll stop now, I'm ranting I know," Harry sighed. "I wish there was something someone could do to make it all go away."  
Hermione just looked at him, knowing full well she could do nothing for him right now. I wish he'd just wake up one day and realise that it doesn't all come down to him, she thought sadly. Little did Hermione know that it really did come down to Harry, thanks to the prophecy.  
  
"In my dreams I see not just my father but my mother and godfather too. I know what it means. Voldemort knows how I'm feeling right now. He knew already that Sirius was the closest thing I'd ever had to a parent. That's how he tricked me into going to the Ministry to get the prophecy last year. That's how Sirius died; because I love to 'play the hero.'"  
"Voldemort's been probing my mind again, I suppose. He's just using me again. He'll find the way to break me and use it. Or correction, he already found the way to break me and he is using it to his advantage. Really, just because I'm the only one who can kill him..." Harry said before he could stop himself.  
Hermione took a few moments to digest all the information. "What are you saying?" she asked "is that what's in the prophecy.  
Harry thought for a moment. "I really don't know. I can't think straight anymore."  
  
"Being to Boy-Who-Lived isn't all it cracked up to be" he mumbled. "Everyone's nagging me! I can never just go off on my own and do anything I want. Even I have restrictions. Dumbledore's been keeping my destiny from me for 5 years and he chooses to tell me now! Right after my godfather dies he goes and tells me that only I can kill Voldemort or I'll be murdered by him!"  
Harry paused for breath and started speaking again, "You think it's easy being me? You try it for a day! You try having never ceasing nightmares come at you from evil villains every night! You try having the Dursleys as relatives! I bet you wouldn't even last one day at their house, let alone the first ten years of your life and every damn summer! I'm being tracked wherever I go! We can't win the war without me and I DON'T WANT TO BE THE PERSON WHO HAS TO KILL HIM! YOU TRY BEING DEPRESSED EVERY SINGLE DAY OF YOUR LIFE! IT'S NOT FUN!"  
"It's not easy. Everyday I wake up hoping to die. I always feel like I'm falling into a black hole. The sides of it keep inching in, pressing closer and closer to me. I know I'm trapped and I can't do anything about it. Someday the darkness is going to engulf me and I'll never be free. And you know what the worst part is?" Hermione shook her head again. "No one can save me from it."  
  
The statement seemed to hang there, suspended in mid-air for a while Something inside Harry that was latent up until now was showing. It was something that proved that Harry was much more vulnerable than anyone had ever thought him to be  
  
"Don't worry Harry" said Hermione quietly "We'll help you. We're on your side"  
  
"Yeah" added Ron  
  
"Maybe I'm on no one's side" he sighed and closed his eyes. "This is not how I am. It's not how I should be"  
  
Hermione shook her head. Harry doesn't make any sense any more.  
  
"What d'you reckon then?" asked Ron as he and Hermione walked down the spiral staircase to the common room.  
  
"Harry's in a worse state than anyone realises" replied Hermione  
  
"What are we going to do?"  
  
"There are two choices; firstly we could leave him to work it out for himself"  
  
"Yeah, but that could take ages, and look at the mess he's in" interrupted Ron  
  
"Or" continued Hermione, a bit more forcefully "we admit that we're out of our depth with his, and get him some help"  
  
"I know" said Ron slowly, "we need someone to watch him"  
  
"Oh really" scoffed Hermione "who's going to want to look at Harry all day long?"  
  
"Isn't it obvious?" asked Ron. Hermione snorted.  
  
"Dobby. Who else?"  
  
Not many people came to visit the kitchens in Hogwarts. Few were privy to it in the first place. During the days, the house elves of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry zipped through this room to prepare meals. At night it was empty, as most of the elves went to the prepared areas where they made their homes.  
  
Dobby wasn't like most elves. Besides his own responsibilities to Dumbledore and taking care of Winky, Dobby felt another responsibility to the boy who freed him. Dobby had never known a wizard who cared for a house elf before Harry Potter. If someone had told him such a thing existed five years ago, he would have doubted them, and then punished himself for such doubt. Harry Potter had given Dobby the chance to control his own destiny.  
  
Ron pushed the portrait open and entered the House Elf Kitchen. He was surprised to see Dobby there waiting for him.  
  
"Wheazy! And young Miss. Can Dobby get you anything?" he squeaked happily  
  
Dobby was always an interesting sight. Multiple socks covered his feet and over a dozen hats were precariously balanced upon his head.  
  
"Maybe a sandwich and something to drink, if it's not too much trouble..." Ron replied.  
  
"Ron" Hermione hissed. "You've only just eaten"  
  
Dobby bowed and disappeared from sight.  
  
"That was ages ago, and besides, I'm a growing boy."  
  
"The only growing you're doing is sideways" she retorted, prodding him in the side.  
  
"That's muscle"  
  
"It isn't."  
  
Their bickering stopped when Dobby returned with a tray of roast beef sandwiches and a bottle of Butterbeer.  
  
Ron took a bite of the sandwich and a prolonged swig of the Butterbeer before he really noticed Dobby sitting on the mantle of the fireplace, studying him.  
  
"Dobby, have you seen Harry recently?" asked Hermione.  
"Yes. Something is wrong with Harry Potter," Dobby replied. "Harry Potter has not been himself lately. Has somebody hurt Harry Potter?" Hermione realised that Harry was finding it much harder to recover from the Chamber of Mysteries than he had the year before. The loss of Sirius Black had cut him far deeper than the death of Cedric Diggory. She was lost in these thoughts when Dobby abruptly questioned her again.  
  
"What is it young Miss?"  
"We need Dobby to watch Harry."  
  
"There is nothing Dobby wouldn't do to help Harry Potter. Harry Potter is Dobby's friend, so Dobby will watch Harry Potter"  
  
"One last thing" said Hermione, catching Ron by suprise. "Can we have more choice of vegetarian dishes on the menu?"  
  
Ron shook his head, but Dobby looked horrified that anyone would ask that.  
  
"Miss" he said bowing, "why?"  
  
Harry lay in bed for the rest of the day, until it was time to meet Luna in Myrtle's bathroom again.  
  
"Er, maybe I shouldn't be asking this, Harry, but what were you dreaming about?" Luna asked, concerned.  
"Nothing," Harry said quickly.  
"It was not 'nothing', and you know it. I've heard what you said to Hermione. All of it," She said, moving next to Harry and holding his hand.  
Harry sighed. "There's nothing you can do about it..."  
"Has that ever stopped me before?" Luna said.  
Harry hung his head. "Voldemort keeps sending me these dreams. He's using my own parents and Sirius to torture me into joining him. At least that's what I think. He reminds me every time that all I have to do is join him to stop the dreams, so my reasoning makes sense."  
Luna hugged Harry tightly. "The dreams won't last forever," she said soothingly. "It'll all be over soon."  
Harry frowned slightly. "I hope it will. It's just horrible. I can barely stand the sight of them without crying. I can't stop them either. I'm pitiful."  
"You are not pitiful. You're one of the best people I know!" Luna exclaimed.  
Harry allowed a small smile at the compliment. He buried his face in her shoulder, breathing deeply. "I just want it all to end," Harry mumbled  
  
As with the previous night, the ghostly mist reappeared.  
  
A faint voice, bearly audible whispered "Harry, Harry are you there?"  
  
Harry hit the ground sooner than before. Still, it took him most of his strength to stand and stay balanced. Just as the previous times, white light flooded his vision. James, Lily, and Sirius floated in the air before him.  
It was always the same routine. James would say hello, Harry would say hello back. Lily would wave and blow a kiss to him and Harry would do the same in return. Sirius would always greet him with a smile and always asked how he was doing. Harry would mechanically reply that everything was fine even though it was nowhere close.  
"So, son, how are you enjoying your time with us?" Lily asked.  
"I love it!" Harry replied. "It's great!"  
Harry knew it was a downright lie. Every moment he spent with this trio was torture. He couldn't stand to see their faces because he knew it was because of him that they were dead. The fact that he couldn't touch them made it even worse. All he wanted was to be enveloped into a huge warm hug that would make everything bad go away. It wasn't going to happen though, because the people floating before him were just spirits.  
"So, Harry, any luck in the love department yet?" Sirius said, grinning broadly.  
Harry would have loved to answer him. He desperately needed some advice about what to do with his new-found love for Luna. Unfortunately, he couldn't. He knew that Voldemort was behind this all and he knew that anything he said would be used against him.  
"No," Harry responded.  
"Don't worry, son. If you're anything like me, that perfect someone will come along soon," James said, wrapping his arm around Lily's waist.  
It was pure torture for Harry. He hated the fact that the spirits could still touch each other without passing right through the other. He longed to touch the figures before him. He never wanted them to leave.  
"Go after love, Harry. Don't wait for it to come to you," Lily added, kissing James softly.  
"There they go again," Sirius said laughing.  
Tears began to roll down Harry's cheeks. They splashed onto the ground. Didn't they know how much this was hurting him? Couldn't they see all the pain they were putting him through?  
"Stop!" Harry begged.  
They didn't seem to hear him.  
"Stop, please stop! Stop..."  
The dream began to fade. James and Lily, still kissing passionately, were sucked back into the darkness. Sirius followed, still laughing. The path was ripped out from under him, causing him to start falling towards the light that shone from many yards under him.  
"All you have to do is join me, Potter," Voldemort's voice echoed around him.  
"I will never join you, Riddle!" Harry yelled.  
"Have it your way. They'll be back tomorrow night. Don't worry, Potter. Soon you'll have no choice but to join me."  
The light began to engulf him.  
  
Harry woke suddenly. Although it was pitch black inside the dormitory, he was aware of something moving. He reached under his pillow for his wand.  
  
"Lumos" he muttered, sitting up and casting the light from his wand around the room until it fell on a large ear.  
  
"Dobby" he sighed, falling back onto his pillow.  
  
"What's wrong Harry Potter. Is it your Loony?" Dobby asked.  
  
"No, It's not Luna."  
  
Dobby sat and stared. Harry seemed like he was about to burst.  
  
"Everybody wants me to be something different for them. Everybody wants me to be something I'm not. To the Order, I'm a tool. I'm a weapon to defeat Voldemort." Harry took a deep breath and continued.  
  
"To the world at large, I'm some kind of hero because I survived things I didn't have control of. Even Ron and Hermione look at me differently these days! Almost all the students expect me to be some kind of leader! And when I try to lead people, I always fail and someone else pays the price!"  
  
A tear ran quickly down Harry's cheek. "Those who aren't like that hate me. I'm just some sort of freak to them!" Harry continued. "I didn't ask for this! I didn't ask to be the hero! I didn't ask to be in that prophecy! I just want to be Harry!"  
  
The first tear was followed by more, swiftly falling down his face.  
  
"Luna's different, though. Luna's the only person I know who sees me differently from everybody else. She's the only human being that I can act just like Harry around. She isn't like Cho, I'm not nervous around her. She isn't jealous if I walk away from her to somebody else. Sure, she's strange, but around her, I don't have to try to be somebody I'm not. I don't have to be Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. I don't have to be the Destroyer of Voldemort and the Saviour of the Wizarding World. I can just... be."  
  
Dobby nodded, and waited for Harry to continue. Harry had held this in for months, and needed to release it. Harry took off his glasses, and squeezed the bridge of his nose before continuing.  
  
"I don't know what I could give to have that. Just to be a normal wizard whose biggest worry is getting the right amount of lacewings into a potion. I want to be loved, and not for what's expected of me, but just for being me! But anybody who'd love me would be in danger! Voldemort ... Dumbledore ... the Ministry ... they all want something from me! Luna doesn't want anything from me. She doesn't need anything from me! She's happy with what she is and what she has. With the kind of danger she's faced, how could I ask her for something like love? How could I ask her for anything more?"  
  
Saturday morning brought the postponed match against Slytherin. Harry's mood had swung from depressed to stress induced excitement. He was surprised to find that he was first in the Quidditch locker room. He thought that Ron, as captain, would have beaten him there.  
  
Harry had just changed into his uniform when Ron came hurrying into the locker room, his bag draped over his shoulders and his broom in hand. Without saying a word, he took a seat across from Harry on the opposite bench and began unpacking his things.  
  
"Late start?" Harry questioned. He thought that maybe Ron had overslept and missed breakfast, since Harry hadn't seen him in the Great Hall.  
  
The atmosphere of the locker room was still uncomfortable as Harry quickly changed into his scarlet Quidditch robes. He was thankful when the rest of the team started to arrive so that he wouldn't have to make more small talk with Ron.  
  
As the team huddled together for one final pep talk, Harry couldn't help noticing how odd it was to be one of the tallest people on the team. They looked up to him, the way he had looked up to Oliver and the twins and Angelina and Katie. Now he was a veteran. He was the next generation of Quidditch. The next era. And his best friend was leading him into battle.  
  
Ron was looking quite pale. This season was different. Ron could no longer claim to be the beginner. This time he was supposed to be the leader. He was the captain. For once, Harry was relieved that there was some weight lifted off his shoulders.  
  
After a few words of encouragement, the Gryffindor team left the locker room and slowly made their way to the Quidditch Pitch. The roar of the crowd echoed in the distance. Harry could feel his raw nerves turning into excitement. It had been so long since he had done this. He missed nearly the entire season last year.  
  
Madam Hooch called the teams to the centre of the pitch and began to shout the rules. "Let's keep it clean. I don't want anything happening like last year."  
  
"Hey scar head" drawled Malfoy. "Like the broom? It's a Nimbus 2004, the latest model, really expensive and more manourable than a Firebolt"  
  
Harry ignored him.  
  
Madam Hooch eyed Harry and Malfoy with a narrow glare. She blew her whistle to signal the start of the game.  
  
His veins pumping with adrenaline, Harry kicked off the ground along with the other players. Colin Creevy, who took Lee Jordan's place as announcer, sat proudly in the stands. "And they're off!" he shouted. "Madam Hooch has released the balls and Gryffindors second game of the season begins!"  
  
Harry saw the Snitch for a split second before it took off into the skies. The sun was shining brightly, the hoops casting long autumn shadows on the grassy field. Harry squinted at his team-mates below, dodging Bludgers and passing the Quaffle.  
  
"Pritchard of Slytherin has the Quaffle - he's headed for the hoop. He passes it to Nott. Oh! Ginny Weasley intercepts it. Look out! Weasley narrowly escapes the Bludger hit by Goyle of Slytherin. Wealsey's headed towards the goal. She shoots, Bletchley blocks... but he's not fast enough! It's good! Gryffindor is on the board first with ten points."  
  
The pitch erupted into cheer, except for the hisses from the Slytherins in the stands. Harry was just admiring Ginny's obvious skills as a chaser when Malfoy swooped up in front of him. "Proud of your little girlfriend, Potter? Heard she nearly took your spot on the team. Imagine, a girl taking your position? How embarrassing."  
  
"What's embarrassing is that you'd rather try to torment me than pay attention to the game, Malfoy," Harry spat back. He dove for the Gryffindor hoops as one of the Slytherin chasers sped towards the goal. Malfoy followed him, thinking he'd spotted the Snitch. Harry stopped in mid-air, then watched as Malfoy whizzed past. "Stupid git," he muttered.  
  
But the distraction wasn't enough to deter the Slytherin Chaser, who easily threw the Quaffle through one of the hoops Ron was guarding. Harry cursed.  
  
The Slytherin fans went crazy, chanting a similar verse to the heckle they had made up about Ron the year before. Ron blushed madly from his cheeks to his ears.  
  
Harry sped over to Ron's side. "Don't pay attention to them!" he shouted. "Don't let them get to you again."  
  
"Shut up, Harry," Ron muttered. "Get up there and do your job."  
  
Slightly hurt, Harry searched the skies for the Snitch, and after no sign of it, he looked for Malfoy.  
  
"Gryffindor has possession. Weasley has the Quaffle. Weasley passes to McDonald, McDonald to Weasley. Weasley passes it to Frobisher. Frobisher takes a hit. That's going to leave a mark! The Quaffle is loose! McDonald picks it up again. She's heading towards the Slytherin rings. Bletchley blocks, but it's no good. Another goal for Gryffindor!"  
  
The scoring continued well into the two next hours. Harry's legs were falling asleep on his broom. It had to be the longest Quidditch match he'd ever played. The points had been balanced at the beginning, but now Gryffindor was ahead by 160 points. Crabbe and Goyle barely had any fight left in them. They were weak and tired on their brooms. Harry had even caught Malfoy yawning only moments before.  
  
He wished that the Snitch would just appear so that he could catch it. The fans had already lost their enthusiasm, and he'd seen some Hufflepuff girls trying to sneak back to the castle. At this rate, injuries would be more likely in a result of exhaustion on a broom than being beaten with a Bludger. Even Colin's voice was hoarse from all of the speaking. He had certainly lost his usual zest.  
  
"Sloper hits the Bludger at Nott. Nott ducks. He heads for the goal. Goyle attempts a counterattack. His club misses the Bludger." Colin sighed. "I've read of Quidditch matches that went on for days before the Snitch appeared..."  
  
McGonagall gave him a hard pat on the back and Colin sat up in his seat at attention, continuing his commentary.  
  
A clump of snowdrops growing on the outskirts of the forbidden forest caught Harry's attention. They were a solitary splash of colour against the otherwise dark wood, but rather than showing that spring would soon arrive; they only illustrated the bleakness of the landscape. Even the trees seemed to be shivering in the cold air. He found his mind wandering onto other things, like his essay for Muggle Studies, and if he would see Sirius again. He had to wonder if Ron was truly mad at him, or if he was just stressed because of the game.  
  
Suddenly, the stands erupted into cheer. Panicking, Harry looked around for any sign of the Snitch. It must have appeared; that was the only reason they would cheer. But as he swooped down lower to the ground, he realised why.  
  
Malfoy was standing on the grassy field, the golden Snitch fluttering in his fingertips.  
  
Harry's heart crashed into his stomach. He hung in mid air on his broom in disbelief that Malfoy had beaten him to the Snitch. Nobody had ever caught the Snitch before him in a game that was fair. Malfoy smirked at him, tossing the Snitch playfully into the air and catching it again, just as he had once seen his father do in one of Snape's old memories.  
  
"Well, Potter. Looks like you've lost your touch."  
  
Harry's anger and confusion fumed inside of him. "How...?" he began. But Colin Creevy interrupted him.  
  
"Draco Malfoy catches the Snitch, but Gryffindor wins the match by only ten points." He sounded as though he wasn't sure he should celebrate or not. There was an eerie silence on the field now, as the rest of Harry's team-mates flew down from their positions in the air. Ginny flashed Harry a sympathetic look, but Ron wouldn't meet his eyes.  
  
Now this, Harry thought, this is an embarrassment.  
  
"You may have won the game, Potter," Malfoy said. "But we all know who the real winner is today." And with one last sneer, he pushed off the ground and began his ascent into the sky for a lap around the stadium, the golden Snitch clutched tightly in his fist.  
Harry hung his head in defeat. Now Ron had a real reason to be truly mad at him.  
  
Ron glared at him. "What the hell was that?"  
  
When Harry didn't make any acknowledgement, Ron swung his legs around to the other side of the bench so that he was facing Harry. "We almost lost because of you"  
  
Harry replied. "What are you going to do? Kick me off the team?"  
  
"I should," Ron said. "But I won't. Not because we're friends, but because it's for the good of the team. You've already missed enough practices as it is. We'll have a hard time replacing you."  
  
"Ron! I told you! Snape makes me study" Harry shouted  
  
Ron held up his hands to silence him. "It's not me you have to answer to, Harry. It's the team. If we're going to win any more matches we have to play like a team. How can we do that when our Seeker doesn't even show up for practices?"  
  
"Well, what else do you expect me to do?" Harry replied between gritted teeth.  
  
"I manage it!" he exploded. "Or have you forgotten that I have one more class than you? I mean, I've got Herbology and Potions, not to mention my responsibilities as a Prefect and Quidditch Captain!"  
  
"You'd better watch it, Ron," Harry said, his voice hoarse. He didn't know how much more of Ron's nagging he could take. "You sound just as big-headed as Percy."  
  
Ron's stare turned icy cold. Harry knew he shouldn't have said that, but he couldn't help himself. It just slipped out.  
  
Though Ron was being a little harsh, Harry couldn't help but agree with him. But what was he supposed to do? He couldn't skip Occlumency. In the big picture, his lessons were more important than Quidditch. Dumbledore had even called him into his office to tell him how vital he was in fighting Voldemort. He owed it to Dumbledore to continue his training.  
  
"What were you thinking, Harry? How could you have let him catch the Snitch like that? Did you even see it?" Ron didn't even give him time to respond. "Obviously not!" He threw his towel into his Quidditch locker.  
  
"Lay off, Ron. We won, didn't we?" Ginny said.  
  
"Don't stick up for me," Harry barked.  
  
Offended, Ginny turned scowled at him and headed to her locker. "Fine. I won't."  
  
"So what kind of excuses do you have this time, Harry?" Ron demanded. "A bewitched broom?"  
  
"I don't know," Harry mumbled. "I don't know what happened out there. I was distracted."  
  
"Distracted? How could you be distracted? It's a game of Quidditch! You don't give up in the middle of it!"  
  
"Don't lecture me about the rules of the game," Harry spat. "You only blocked, what, two goals and let the other slip past?"  
  
"Cut it out, you two," Jack Sloper said suddenly. "This isn't helping. I think we should all just come to realise that Harry can't catch the Snitch every time. I mean, he was bound to lose eventually."  
  
"But to Malfoy?" Ron questioned. "Malfoy's got the speed of a turtle. He's as blind on the field as a bat. Not to mention he has the agility of South-African sloth."  
  
Harry slammed his locker door shut. "I don't know how it happened."  
  
"Maybe if you would have shown up for practice..." Ron began, but Harry shot him such a look that he quickly stopped talking.  
  
"There has to be some other explanation. Maybe Malfoy bewitched the Snitch or something."  
  
Harry draped his Quidditch bag over his shoulder and turned towards the door. "Jack's right," he announced sadly. "I was bound to lose sometime."  
  
Harry was in a foul mood for the rest of the afternoon, and suspected he would feel that way for a good long time. Despite the fact that Malfoy had caught the Snitch, Gryffindor still won the game, so Harry had to muddle through the celebration in the Gryffindor common room. His Occlumency training was proving to be very useful. He tried to appear as cheerful as possible, but on the inside, he was ashamed of his performance.  
  
He could tell Ron felt the same way. He was prompted to give a speech at the party, which turned out to be quite convincing. However, when Harry met his eyes, he could tell that Ron was disappointed in him. His best friend's feelings were what shamed him the most.  
  
That night was another DA meeting. His nerves were on edge again. He had spent the few hours before the meeting in the library, gathering last minute ideas and avoiding the party back in the common room. Harry was beginning to regret scheduling the meeting on the same day as the Quidditch game. He didn't want to have to face his peers, let alone Ron.  
  
But as always, time passed quickly when he was dreading something. Harry glanced at his watch and realised that if he didn't hurry he'd be late for the meeting. He hurried out of the library and up to the seventh floor. He looked for the portrait of Barnabus the Balmy teaching trolls to dance. Concentrating hard on the room he needed, he walked up and down the corridor three times. Suddenly, the door appeared, and he quickly went inside.  
  
"Oh, Harry, we'd thought you'd forgotten," Hermione said breathlessly as he entered the room. It was decorated in usual meeting décor, complete with cushions and other items for magical practice. She had the list out on the table, which she and Ginny were going over. Ron was sulking in a corner.  
  
"I'd never forget," Harry replied. "I was looking up some last minute things in the library."  
  
"You mean you weren't hiding?" Ron questioned. Hermione and Ginny both glared at him.  
  
Harry decided to ignore his comment. "I thought we would start out with a review from last year - some defensive spells. And I'd like to see how everyone's doing with their Patronuses."  
  
"Mine is excellent," Colin Creevy said as he and his brother, Dennis entered the room. "I've been practising since we met at Hogsmeade."  
  
"Mine is coming along," Dennis added. "It's a Plimpy, but I can't seem to get the legs right."  
  
Harry grinned. He was beginning to feel much better. Teaching D.A. could be a bit nerve-wracking, but it was a lot of fun. He always felt like he was accomplishing something good. Something that would prepare everyone for the battle to come.  
  
As more people arrived, Harry was beginning to feel more at ease. Despite his own adventures, this year had been relatively uneventful for everyone. There was no Triwizard Tournament, no Umbridge lurking around every corner. People were laughing and having a good time, happy to see one another.  
  
The meeting went rather smoothly. After separating into pairs, Harry began instructing his eighteen students. They started out with a banishing charm, using the cushions for comfort. Next, they worked on a silencing charm. Professor Flitwick had spent quite some time on it earlier in the semester, and Harry wanted to review it with them. It had been of some use to Hermione when they were battling in the Department of Mysteries at the end of last year.  
  
For the final lesson, he wanted to see everyone's Patronus. He wished he could produce his own for the demonstration, but he just didn't have the heart. He was afraid he didn't have enough happy thoughts left. Ron was barely speaking to him, and he had to find time for Occlumency. Malfoy had caught the Snitch before him and he had been embarrassed in front of the entire school.  
  
He had Ron and Hermione demonstrate the charm.  
  
Then Harry had the rest of the group perform in pairs, and then the two of them sent them in groups of four back to their common rooms with the help of the Marauder's Map. Oddly enough, the last pair was Seamus and Cho. Cho produced her swan, and Harry couldn't even deny that it was gorgeous. Elegant and smooth, just like its owner.  
  
"Harry," Cho said quietly, "could I talk to you for a minute? Alone?"  
  
Harry felt his heart beat rise inside his chest. "Er... sure."  
  
She led him over to a secluded corner of the room, away from the scrutiny of Ron, Hermione, and Seamus. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light from the chandelier overhead. "I don't know how you'll feel about this, but both Marietta and Michael want to know if they can come back to D.A."  
  
"How do they even know that it still exists?" Harry questioned accusingly. "Did you tell them we were still having meetings?"  
  
"No," she snapped, offended. "They've still got their coins. They both knew the meeting was tonight."  
  
He frowned. Hermione was supposed to take care of that. He glanced over at her by the doorway, but she and Ron were lost in each other's eyes. Perhaps she was a bit distracted lately.  
  
"Just think about it," Cho said. "Marietta's learned her lesson. She knows what side is right. And Michael... well, he's not that bad."  
  
Harry grunted. "From what I hear, you think he's just fine."  
  
"We're not a couple anymore," Cho replied, brushing her hair behind her ear nonchalantly. "We're just friends."  
  
"I don't care about that," Harry said curtly.  
  
Cho smiled. "Are you sure?"  
  
Harry's eyes narrowed as he glared at her. If there was anything that he was certain of, it was that Cho was not going to take him on another one of her emotional roller-coaster relationships. "Positive."  
  
She took a step back. "I...I see." It was clear that she got the message. "Well, just think about it." She turned around, her hair and hips bouncing behind her, and left with the last group of Ravenclaws.  
  
Harry ran his hands over his face and through his hair. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. He sighed and returned to his lesson. It was apparent that Seamus, who had never had much practice, was struggling with his own Patronus.  
  
"Expecto Patronum!" Seamus shouted. A thin, wispy cloud came out of the tip of his wand, but it made no shape. He sighed. "It's no use. I don't even know what mine is, only that it's hairy."  
  
"You just... you need to think of something that makes you happy."  
  
"I am," Seamus replied. "It's just not good enough."  
  
Harry could understand how he felt. "There's got to be something."  
  
"Wait, I've got it," he said suddenly.  
  
He grinned. "Expecto Patronum!" With a flick of his wand, the silver phantom appeared, and it was quite hairy. It was almost human form - no, Harry realised, it was an ape. But it wasn't clumsy or wild. It had long, silky hair and dark eyes.  
  
"I know what it is!" Seams cried. "It's a Demiguise! No wonder I couldn't see it before. They're practically invisible. Their coat makes excellent invisibility cloaks."  
  
Harry smiled. "Brilliant."  
  
Hermione looked at her watch and cleared her throat "It's getting late."  
  
Ron nodded in agreement. "Some of us have extra homework."  
  
Then the two of them sent them in groups of four back to their common rooms with the help of the Marauder's Map.  
  
As usual, Harry walked with Luna back to her common room  
  
"You don't look happy" she said. "Was it something Cho said? I saw you and her talking"  
  
Harry looked at her. She looked concerned and was biting her bottom lip  
  
"She wanted to know if that Marietta could re-join the meetings"  
  
"Oh that's all right then" Luna said, smiling again. "What did you say?"  
  
"I said I'd think about it" replied Harry, a bit puzzled as too why Luna would be so worried about who attended the meetings. "Did you see the match?"  
  
"It was a good game," Luna laughed lightly and, Harry thought, a bit mockingly. He smiled at her.  
"Come on, cheer up" said Luna.  
Luna was as odd as ever, but, Harry thought with a grin, he liked her better that way; she made him feel more comfortable to be himself.  
  
"You flew well, it was just unlucky that Malfoy caught the snitch before you"  
  
"I was day dreaming, and not paying attention. Now Ron's angry with me, and I still haven't seen Sirius. I'm starting to wonder if I ever will. On top of that, occlumency isn't going well"  
  
"I didn't know you did occlumency" said Luna, looking surprised. "who teaches that?"  
  
"Snape" said Harry bitterly  
  
"That's Professor Snape to you Potter" said an icy voice "I think that had better be five points from Gryffindor for not addressing a Professor properly, another five because it's not the first time, and a further five points from both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw for being out of bed after hours."  
  
They looked round to see the lank dark hair and hooked nose of Professor Snape step out from the shadows.  
  
"Good night Harry" said Luna as she disappeared into her common room.  
  
"A word Potter" began Snape" haven't you learnt your lesson? The Dark Lord finds people like you who care about other people easy targets"  
  
"Yes Professor" Harry was too tired to argue with him tonight  
  
"Make sure you practice Potter. Now get back to your dormitory"  
  
Harry lay in his bed that night for what felt like endless hours. He had been the first one to bed after the D.A. meeting, yet he still had not fallen asleep before the moon reached its highest peak in the sky. The cold northern wind was loudly beating against the windows of the dormitory.  
  
Or was it just Neville's snoring?  
  
Harry couldn't be sure as he tossed and turned, entangling his legs in his bed sheets. Wide awake and uncomfortable, he knew it was no use trying to get any sleep that night. He felt exhausted, yet sleep would not come to him.  
  
He was worrying about so many things. Ron had been so angry with for ages, and the game earlier that day only made it ten times worse. He had also wasted a few thoughts wondering about Marietta Edgecombe and Michael Corner and whether he should let them come back to D.A. He would need to discuss it with Hermione and Ron - if he would ever speak to Harry again.  
  
Harry was dreading the heckling that was bound to come from Malfoy on Monday in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Losing to him was something that Harry didn't even get a chance to prepare for.  
  
And for some reason, whenever he finally did drift off to sleep a little, in the space between his consciousness and his dreaming, he saw the images of his parents.  
  
With the image of his father so fresh in his mind, Harry couldn't help feeling lonely. It was times like these he wished he could talk to Sirius. He thought of the pieces of the broken mirror carefully packed into a corner of his trunk. If only he could look into it and see Sirius. If only he could hear his godfather's voice one last time.  
  
Chaos. There was pandemonium everywhere. He could sense it when he flicked his tongue into the open air. Feet running. Shouting. Keys unlocking. Gates opening. And fear. Lots of fear. The stench of fear was so clear he could hardly smell anything else. As he slithered upon the stone floor he could sense the vibrations of laughter .  
  
He could hear the laughing now. The final gate unlocked and they stepped out into the open air. Bellatrix took a deep breath and stepped towards him. She looked much healthier than when we fought her last year, her heavy-lidded eyes wide and black hair shining in the sunrise.  
  
"What took you so long?" she questioned, then leaned over and picked him up.  
  
He coiled around her boney wrist and slithered up her arm until he was secure around her neck. He had a better view of the anarchy around him. Some foolish guards hid in the cells that once held prisoners. The apparition ban on the fortress that kept its captives from escaping would now be the death of their most loyal employees.  
  
Kill them. Kill them all.  
  
He watched as the dark figures came out of their cells and advanced on the last of the guards, trembling in fear. One, with long pale hair, raised his wand and began the incantation that would end the terror.  
  
And as the first life was snuffed out in a flash of green, she laughed. "Yes, Master. I will save my strength for her."  
  
The cackling echoed in Harry's mind. Horrible, evil screeching exploded in his ear. His scar felt odd. Tender. Harry reached up to touch his forehead, but suddenly felt two hands close around his wrists. Someone was calling his name. Someone was shaking him.  
  
"Harry! Harry!"  
  
His eyes flew open and he sat up in bed, nearly knocking the woman out of the way.  
  
"Tonks?" Harry questioned.  
  
Professor Leurre sat beside him, looking more like a concerned Tonks than a stern doppelganger of McGonagall. "Harry, are you all right?"  
  
"I think so. What are you doing here?" Harry took a deep breath and reached up to touch his scar. Pins and needles shot through his forehead. It wasn't painful, just eerie. And suddenly, he remembered. He grabbed Tonks by the shoulders. "They're free," he said..  
  
"Who? C'mon Harry, we need to get you to the Hospital Wing."  
  
"Bellatrix is coming for you," Harry whispered.  
  
Tonks stopped in her tracks. "Are you sure?"  
  
Harry nodded. "I know it." Tonks quickly pulled him up and draped his arm across her shoulders. She didn't stagger under his weight.  
  
They slowly made their way to the stairs that led to the common room. Tonks went through first, then helped Harry. "Lean on me," she said. Harry did, and she steered him towards the left.  
  
They left the common room via the portrait and turned right  
  
"The Hospital Wing is the other way," Harry said, his teeth clenched as he tried to walk.  
  
Tonks shook her head. "You had a vision. We should go to Dumbledore's office first. I imagine he's waiting."  
  
Harry staggered along the third floor hallway until they took the stairs down to the second level where the statue of the gargoyle was located.  
  
His mind was racing as Tonks said the password to get inside. Unlike his previous visions, he could vividly remember each detail as though he were really there. He shivered.  
  
"All right, Harry?" Tonks questioned.  
  
He didn't know.  
  
When they entered his office, Dumbledore was already awake, looking very concerned as he sat behind his enormous claw-footed desk. He was wearing a dressing robe, and his long white beard was gathered together at the base of his chin to keep it from tangling while he slept. A faint hum was coming from Dumbledore's collection of strange silver instruments.  
  
"Sit down, Harry." It was a command. "We will wait for the others to arrive."  
  
So many questions were reeling in Harry's mind. How did Tonks know where he was? How did Dumbledore even know what was going on? Was there some sort of surveillance on him that he didn't know about? How else could they have found him?  
  
Harry was afraid to look Dumbledore in the eye. He wondered who they were waiting for. The sunrise was already spilling through the window in Dumbledore's office when McGonagall and Snape hurried through the door and stood at the headmaster's side.  
  
He understood why McGonagall was there - to hand out the punishment, of course. It was a rule that only the head of each house could decide on the punishment of her students. However, Snape's presence was a mystery to him. Snape appeared to have been awake. He was not dressed in any sort of night clothes. Perhaps he slept in the same tattered black robes that he wore during the day. It wouldn't surprise Harry if he did. At least it would account for his greasiness.  
  
When he met Snape's eyes, Harry could sense he was rather apprehensive about the whole situation. Maybe through his spying, he had been aware of the plans of the breakout in Azkaban.  
  
Dumbledore inhaled sharply, then folded his long fingers together and set them down on his desk. He started at Harry with his twinkling, yet fierce, blue eyes. "Harry, I know that tonight has been quite an adventure for you. I know that there are endless questions in your mind. However, we need you to answer our questions before we can answer any of yours. You must tell us what you saw."  
  
Harry gulped. He had become quite used to recording any of his dreams in the Diary Duplicator. It was a lot different trying to recall broken images to write on a page than telling them to ears that were anxious to hear. But it felt different to him this time. This time he didn't see broken images. He could recall everything about the vision in detail. It had been clearer than the first vision he'd had of the attack on Mr. Weasley last year.  
  
"I remember," he began, "I remember the whole thing. I was there. I was at Azkaban. I've never seen the fortress before, but I know that's where I was. I was a snake again, like last year.  
  
Harry glanced up. Snape winced at the sound of his name. He continued with a renewed sense of distress. "There was death everywhere. I could sense it. I could smell it. And then I could hear her laughing."  
  
"Who?" Dumbledore questioned, as though he already knew the answer.  
  
"Bellatrix Lestrange," Harry spat. Her name caused fury to grow inside of him. "She came over and picked me up and I coiled all around her neck so that I could feel her heartbeat."  
  
McGonagall and Tonks exchanged worried glances. Harry pretended not to notice. "I could communicate with her. She would talk to me and we could understand each other. I said for her to kill them all. No, I said for the others to kill them all. I told her to save her strength."  
  
"Others?" Snape interrupted. Dumbledore held up a hand to silence him.  
  
"She said she was going to save her strength for her." Harry tried not to look at Tonks. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to know that she was the one who had put Bellatrix back in Azkaban over the summer. He only knew she was the one because he'd been spying on her and Remus earlier that night. "And then someone else came forward to do the killing. It was Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy."  
  
If it was possible, Snape's face somehow grew even paler. He turned to look at Dumbledore, but the headmaster was still patiently studying Harry. "And how did it end, Harry? Did he sense you?"  
  
Harry thought back to when he had awakened from the vision. It had all happened so fast, it was a little fuzzy. First Malfoy killed, and then he could feel Tonks's hands wrapped around his wrists as he reached for his scar. "No... No, he didn't know I was there. The only reason I woke up from the vision was because Tonks was shaking me."  
  
All eyes were on Tonks as she looked sheepishly to the floor. "I guess my cover's been blown," she said quietly. "I found Harry on the floor. He was thrashing around. I didn't know what to do."  
  
"It's fine," Dumbledore said. "You did the right thing, Tonks." He took a deep breath and sat up in his chair. "Please escort Harry to the Hospital Wing, where he is to spend the rest of the day sleeping. He has had a very long day and an even longer night." Dumbledore peered over the desk at him with suspicious eyes. "I'm afraid your questions will have to wait for another day, Harry."  
  
Harry nodded. That meant his punishment would have to wait for another day. "Yes, sir." He stood gingerly on his feet and slowly made his way to the door with Tonks's help. Sleep had never sounded so good to him.  
  
"Minerva, kindly alert the Ministry that Azkaban Fortress has been under attack and the captured Death Eaters have broken free." McGonagall nodded and quickly left Dumbledore's office.  
  
Harry expected to overhear Dumbledore give some instructions to Snape, but just as Tonks shut the door, he heard Dumbledore's powerful voice. "You and I have much to discuss, Severus."  
  
Harry slept until well past noon that day. When he finally woke up Madam Pomfrey was at lunch. He quickly got up from the bed and made his way from the deserted hospital wing back to Gryffindor Tower.  
  
As he climbed the stairs, he couldn't help but notice how eerie Hogwarts felt. Was it because he had finally let go of all the emotions he'd been holding inside? Was it because it was hard to feel at home there anymore? Was it just him?  
  
But even the Fat Lady was humble. "Billywig bile," Harry mumbled. The portrait opened and Harry stepped inside.  
  
The common room was quite full and all eyes were on Harry as he quickly walked toward the boy's dormitory. However, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Seamus were sharing a table and Hermione was on her feet to greet him in a flash.  
  
"Harry! Where have you been? We've been so worried!"  
  
"Worried?" Harry questioned.  
  
"When we couldn't find you this morning, we just assumed the worst. Especially after what happened."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Ginny held up a copy of The Daily Prophet. There was a picture of Azkaban Fortress on the front page. "The Azkaban Breakout."  
  
"Oh, right." Harry cleared his throat.  
  
"You mean you didn't hear about it?" Seamus questioned.  
  
"I did more than that," Harry muttered. He sighed, feeling his exhaustion returning. Seamus raised an eyebrow at him, confused. "I... I was just... I had an early morning Remedial Potions lesson."  
  
"Snape never gives you a break, does he?" Seamus laughed.  
  
"No," Harry said. "He certainly doesn't. I'm going to go up and take a nap before supper."  
  
He turned away from his friends' worried faces and dashed up the stairs. If he didn't sleep, at least maybe he could have a moment to himself so he could get some actual studying done - or better yet, his Muggle Studies essay.  
  
He had just climbed into his four-poster when the door into the boys' dormitory opened and shut. Harry glanced up and saw Ron come inside, The Daily Prophet in hand. He threw it down on the foot of Harry's bed.  
  
"Look, Ron, I've had a long day. I don't want to get into anything with you..." Harry began.  
  
"You saw it, didn't you?" Ron interrupted. "You saw the whole thing."  
  
Harry sighed. "Pretty much."  
  
"The Ministry said no survivors," Ron said. "All the Death Eaters. Gone. The other prisoners. The workers. All killed."  
  
Harry could still smell the stench of death. He shivered. "Murdered."  
  
Ron plopped down on the bed across from him and held his head in his hands. "I'm so sorry, Harry, but there's no easy way to say this."  
  
"Ron..."  
  
"I've decided to drop you from the team. I just forget how much you have on your plate sometimes. I'm so narcoleptic."  
  
Harry sighed. "Narcissistic?"  
  
"Right." Harry could see that Ron felt terrible. His eyes were bloodshot. He looked as though he hadn't had much sleep either. His face was paler than usual. "I'm really sorry. "  
  
As Harry sat in Defence Against the Dark Arts the next afternoon, he watched Tonks teach the class with an ease that she had only developed in the past few months. She was past her clumsiness - though she still had a few mishaps - and seemed to be enjoying herself.  
  
There were a few things bothering him. How did she know where to find him after he'd had his vision? How did she know that he was in trouble? There was only one thing he knew for sure: he was under closer surveillance than he realised.  
  
But the thing that made his skin crawl the most was the smugness he saw in Malfoy. He did not hide his cheerfulness at the escape of his father. He even had the nerve to come up to Harry before class and say, "At least it only took my father a few months to escape." Harry's blood had been boiling ever since. Not to mention that he was extra arrogant because of his capture of the Snitch.  
  
The bell rang and most of the students quickly bolted out of the classroom. Harry, however, took his time in gathering his things. Perhaps he'd ask Tonks a few questions before he left.  
  
"Harry, may I see you in my office, please?"  
  
"Yes, Professor." Ron glanced at Harry, but he pretended not to notice. He quickly picked up his books and followed Tonks into her office.  
  
As soon as he stepped inside the door, someone spoke.  
  
"Harry, how are things?"  
  
He smiled at Harry, but his eyes were serious. He looked a bit pale.  
  
"Remus? What are you doing here?"  
  
"Remus is going to take you to a special, er, meeting," Tonks said. "In light of recent events, some things are going to change."  
  
Remus interrupted. "So, what's been happening? How's the quidditch going?"  
  
Harry looked down to the floor. "Ron and I were arguing. He's dropped me from the team. Not to mention that Malfoy caught the Snitch yesterday in the Quidditch Match."  
  
Harry didn't feel it was right to tell Lupin about Luna yet.  
  
"What?" Harry could feel Remus's eyes on him, but he didn't have the heart to look up. He didn't want to see his pity.  
  
"I don't know how he did it, but he beat me to it. Fair and square.. And I had Occlumency with Snape, which was a complete disaster."  
  
"It was?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "Sort of."  
  
"How did Tonks find me?" Harry interrupted.  
  
Remus shifted his weight from one foot to the other.  
  
"Well, Harry, as long as we're being honest with each other..." He cleared his throat. "There's something I didn't tell you about the Moon Guide."  
  
"Which is?"  
  
"It works both ways. You can see me when you look into your half. When I look into mine, I can see you." Looking older than usual, he sat down on the edge of Tonks's desk. He winced, as though his back hurt. "My main assignment from the Order has been to keep an eye on you."  
  
Harry took a step towards him. "What you're really saying is that it was your job to spy on me."  
  
Remus nodded. "It was for your own good, Harry." Harry was fuming, but before he could say anything, Remus held up his hands to silence him. "Look, it really did feel like spying. That's why I didn't do it as often as I should have. It's one thing for me to give you permission to check up on me, however when the tables are turned it's a different story."  
  
"Did Dumbledore put you up to this?" Harry questioned.  
  
"Quite the contrary. It was Molly."  
  
"Mrs. Weasley?" Now Harry was really confused. "But why would she care?" And as soon as he had asked the question, Harry realised how silly it was. His name was on the clock, wasn't it? He was an honorary member of the Weasley family. Mrs. Weasley would do anything to protect her family.  
  
"Well, I happened to be with Tonks when I checked up on you yesterday morning" Remus continued  
  
"Why?" Harry asked. How could Remus have gone to him if he was hundreds of miles away in his cabin?  
  
"That's not important," Remus said quickly. "I sent Tonks after you, while I alerted Dumbledore."  
  
He glanced at the clock on the mantle of the fireplace in the office. "I'd better get going, Harry, they are expecting me. Look after yourself. You know where I am if you need me"  
  
There was a knock on the door and Mr. Weasley quickly rushed over and opened it. "Remus, Come in, come in." he said jovially.  
  
Remus looked awful. Much worse than anyone ever remembered him. His eyes were clouded, and there were dark circles beneath them. He looked thinner, but somehow, wilder. He was more anxious than exhausted. His hands shook - almost unnoticeably - as he unbuttoned his thick down jacket.  
  
"Hello," he said with a smile. "I apologise, Molly. I'll only be able to stay for a quick dinner. Full moon's tonight."  
  
"It's rotten luck," Remus continued, "that it falls today."  
  
"It's all right," Mrs Weasley replied, managing a grin. "I'm just glad you're here now."  
  
The three of them made their way into the lounge where Dumbledore, Tonks & Snape were waiting.  
  
"Welcome Remus" said Dumbledore getting to his feet. Remus took his seat at the table, opposite Tonks.  
  
"As everyone's here, we may as well begin" continued Dumbledore. "Remus & Tonks, could you tell us how Harry Potter is getting on?"  
  
Lupin looked at the table for a moment before he spoke. "His moods are up and down, depending on the day. He's worse than we expected. I'm concerned that he's going to do something stupid"  
  
"Like?" asked Mrs Weasley  
  
"I've heard that he's very pre-occupied with Sirius"  
  
"And, he's in a right state about that prophecy" added Tonks. "It probably won't be long before he boils over"  
  
"That's not going to be good" said Mr Weasley, removing his glasses and wiping them on a cloth.  
  
All the time the discussion was going, Snape stared at the far wall.  
  
"Thank you Remus" said Dumbledore once Lupin had finished his report.  
  
"I have made an error of judgement" began Dumbledore gravely. "I have omitted an important part of the magical community from my plans. I am referring to the house elves."  
  
"Hermione Granger would be a useful contributor to that discussion" said Tonks "she has attempted to bring the plight of the house elves enslavement to the attention of the general public as well as the Ministry."  
  
"She, err, believes" said Snape, enjoying stressing the word "that all the elves should be freed, and given proper wages and benefits. It is of course nonsense, and likely to be counter productive to our cause."  
  
"We shall see" said Dumbledore, with a touch of impatience in his voice. 


	8. Chapter 8

February  
  
He didn't sleep well that night. Again & again he visited Voldemort in his dreams. He was telling the death eaters that he was going to execute his schemes soon. Malfoy was allowed to take his revenge; against whom, Harry didn't know. As instructed, Harry wrote the dreams in his diary early the next morning.  
  
He looked outside the window in his dormitory. It was the first day of February and a thick frost lay over the grounds, making them looked as if they had icing sugar sprinkled on the grass. He thought that it would be a good day to play Quidditch, even if it was cold. Then he remembered that Ron had dropped him. It was an odd decision for the captain of the team to make; it didn't make sense. He was the best seeker in Hogwarts and they would never be able to replace him with someone of the same standard. Ron also relied on his advice. Perhaps it was just an excuse and there was another reason.  
  
'Would it be legally or ethically right to use Legilimency to find it out?' he wondered.  
  
Not wanting to talk to Ron that early in the day, he left the dormitory and went to the common room and sat in a chair next to the ashes of the former fire. He heard footsteps as someone else crossed the floor. It was Hermione. She flew at him and started assaulting him with a rash set of kisses.  
  
"Hey Harry, do you want me to polish your broomstick for you?"  
  
Harry was appalled at her behaviour. He looked her in the eyes. They were wide open and bulging.  
  
"Hermione, what are you doing?" he asked, pushing her away.  
  
"I love you, Harry! And I love the Weasley twins and I love Oliver Wood and I love all the people on all the Quidditch teams"  
  
'What! Have you been at the fire whiskey?'  
  
"Yes!" she yelled. "Anything for the game of Quidditch!"  
  
He looked at her astounded and asked, "Hermione? Do you even know how to play Quidditch?"  
  
She shook her head and said, "No! But I LOVE QUIDDITCH PLAYERS!"  
  
Harry concluded that something was definitely wrong with her. "You need to go to the hospital wing"  
  
The noise of her ranting had woken their fellow Gryffindors, including Ron. As they entered the common room the all stood looking Hermione, and started to snigger.  
  
"Wait! I'm fine I don't need to go, really." She continued  
  
Then she saw Ron.  
  
She pursed her lips and said, " Ooh you're the captain"  
  
"Hermione, you have to stop doing this. People are laughing at you" said Harry  
  
"I don't care. I LOVE QUIDDITCH!" she shouted as she ran to Ron  
  
"Get off me mudblood" he yelled and pushed her to the floor  
  
This was very wrong. Both Ron & Herimone were acting totally out of character. Neville stepped forward to restrain Ron.  
  
"Upstairs now" said Ginny sternly as she picked Herimone up and lead her back to the girls dormitory.  
  
Fortunately she went quietly and Ron went off to the main hall for breakfast. Harry and Neville followed.  
  
Ron found a seat by himself, so Harry sat with Neville. Luna came across from the Ravenclaw table to join them.  
  
Half way through eating toast, the Owl arrived with Herimone's copy of the Daily Prophet. Harry paid for it, unfolded it and laid it on the table in front of them. It took a few seconds for the news to sink in  
  
Giants rampaging through the Alps  
  
Many muggles killed by avalanches  
  
Reports are coming in that the Giants resident in the Alps have been attacking remote mountain villages. It is widely suspected that they have joined forces with he-who-must-not-be-named, as they did at the start of the last uprising. No reports of survivors have been received. Avalanches destroyed most of the villages  
  
Ginny joined them.  
  
"It's Malfoy" she whispered. "He's been using the imperious curse. I managed to get Herimone sensible enough to tell me"  
  
"But that's illegal" said Neville "He'll end up in Azkaban"  
  
"Big deal. No one's in there now because they've all escaped" Harry reminded him.  
  
"It would explain her unusual behaviour this morning" continued Harry "what about Ron"  
  
"Thought it might be stress. He's got a lot on his plate, but he'd never call her a mudblood".  
  
"What are we going to do about it?" asked Neville  
  
"I'm going to talk to Malfoy" said Harry getting to his feet and clambering over the seat.  
  
He strode across the Great Hall to the Slytherin table and sat down opposite Malfoy.  
  
"What did you do to Hermione?" he asked, peering into Malfoy's face.  
  
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Potter" he said as he buttered a piece of toast.  
  
"Well, that's not what she said" Harry looked into Malfoy's face once more.  
  
Malfoy smirked and simply said, "The Dark Lord is coming Potter. I'm on the winning side"  
  
"Your not"  
  
"Don't think the Order of the Dodo is going to help you. Read the Daily Prophet. The Dark Lord & his allies are already moving" whispered Malfoy coldly. "Your time will come sooner than you think".  
  
"Been there, done it" snorted Harry.  
  
"Okay then, lets do it, right here, right now" said Malfoy, standing up, drawing his wand  
  
"You're on. Not here, outside in the forest." replied Harry, incensed  
  
"I've been looking forward to putting you in your place once & for all Potter" said Malfoy.  
  
Harry turned, and walked out of the great hall, Malfoy followed.  
  
The Forbidden Forest was still. There was no breeze to rustle the branches, and the inhabitants remained silent and hidden from view. Harry and Draco stood facing each other, wands raised in the combat position, in the middle of a clearing.  
  
"What are you trying to prove Malfoy?" Harry asked as he stared steadily at his opponent  
  
"Prove nothing, its revenge Potter, for what you did to my father" Draco stared intently at Harry. "Recognition from the Dark Lord, and to put you out of his misery, once and for all".  
  
"Trying to follow in your fathers footsteps? Do you want to be a scumbag like him?" jeered Harry, starting to circle Malfoy  
  
"At least I have one Potter. Never mind, you'll soon be joining him" retorted Malfoy  
  
"Let's get on with it Malfoy"  
  
They took up positions on opposite sides of the clearing, bowed,  
extended their wands, and then the duel began.  
  
Curses began flying rampant around the forest, Harry dodging Malfoy's wand-created arrows, Malfoy ducking under Harry's Confundus Charm.  
  
"Stop!". It was Ron  
  
The curses stopped, but Harry & Malfoy were still glaring at each other.  
  
"Ron! It's okay, I can deal with this" shouted Harry  
  
"Shut it Potter" replied Ron "It's about time you got what's coming to you"  
  
Harry was stunned.  
  
"What's going on?"  
  
Malfoy was laughing.  
  
"I can't believe how long it's been, and still you have no idea" he sneered. "After what happened to the mudblood, I thought you would have guessed that Weasel King was under my control"  
  
Harry stood still for a few seconds taking it all in before shouting a quick shield spell, just before Malfoy's well-aimed Incendio nearly scorched him.  
  
"Eructo!" Ron yelled,  
  
Harry sunk to his knees, vomiting, before Malfoy followed up with, "Depulso!"  
  
Harry flew backward to land heavily on the ground.  
  
"You duelled with the Dark Lord and weren't killed Potter?" asked Malfoy in disbelief  
  
"So he says" commented Ron, "I don't believe it myself"  
  
"Get up Potter, we duel again"  
  
Harry got to his feet, swaying slightly, and he, Ron & Malfoy adopted to duelling position.  
  
"Incarresous" Harry yelled, sending the hex at Ron.  
  
Ron was bound from head to foot in ropes, and tripped over into the brambles that grew in parts of the clearing.  
  
Before Harry could use the Disarming Spell on Malfoy, was already firing off another jinx.  
  
Harry dodged the Impedient Jinx with ease retaliated with a Stinging Hex to Malfoy's wand hand, but he managed to hang onto his wand despite the pain the hex caused.  
  
"You never could fight fairly, Malfoy"  
  
Draco raised an eyebrow in aggravation. On and on the duel went, until finally Harry shot a fire spell at the hem of Malfoy's robes, and while he was distracted by the fire, yelled, "Expelliarmus!"  
  
Malfoy's wand flew out of his hand and into Harry's.  
  
"It's over Malfoy" said Harry twirling Malfoy's wand between his fingers.  
  
"Not quite" he replied, drawing a second wand from his sleeve. "I heard about the dis-arming spell you use on the Dark Lord"  
  
That had not been the reaction he was expecting "So you've been studying then?" Harry asked, buying time  
  
"What makes you think that I know Dark Arts spells?" said Malfoy cooly  
  
"Again Potter"  
  
Harry nodded, then took up the duelling position again, his wand held out in front of him, Malfoy opposite him in the same position. They bowed to each other, and then the next duel began.  
  
Again, curses began flying the forest, but this time doing more damage to each participant. Malfoy hit Harry's arm with a dark cutting spell, which sliced open his skin and blood started trickling down his arm, but it wouldn't clot; that was why that particular spell was dark. Blood started pooling on the floor, and Harry was careful not to slip in it.  
  
"Oculi Decipio!" Harry shouted, disregarding the blood that dripped down his arm, and Malfoy cursed as the spell hit him. Immediately the Hallucination Hex began taking effect on his eyes, causing him to see strange things all over the forest.  
  
Then Harry shouted a wind spell that would have grabbed him, swirled him around, and slammed him against the trees. Hearing the wind swooping towards him, Malfoy ducked out of the way, then pointed his wand at his eyes, muttering, "Finite Incantatem."  
  
The duel went on, Harry saw two or three thestrals circling above them, no doubt attracted by the blood. Their large leathery wings cast a shadow over the clearing when they pased in front of the sun.  
  
Harry began to tire visibly, as his movements and dodges became slower, and more spells hit him than had before. Harry knew that blood loss was beginning to take a toll on him, so he raised his wand, about to cast a spell that would end the duel.  
  
"Stupefy!"  
  
"Protego" Malfoy conjured up a shield charm, Harry's curse was deflected back at him, catching him on his legs. Once again, he found himself on the floor  
  
"Crucio"  
  
Harry felt as though hot knives were sticking in him, and his arm was being cut open. He rolled around in the mud, screaming in pain.  
  
"That's a good one isn't it Potter" Malfoy taunted.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye Harry caught sight of more thestrals. They crashed through the brambles into the clearing; their unblnking red eyes staring at him.  
  
Harry still had his wand. As his eyes came back into focus he could see a large branch over hanging the clearing. He was too weak to attempt a direct attack on Malfoy, who was strutting around, trying to decide which curse to use next.  
  
"Reducto" said Harry, taking aim at the branch  
  
"Avada Kedavra" shouted Malfoy. There was a bright green flash as the curse hit Harry on his leg.  
  
The intense pain caused Harry to black out, but his spell had done it's job. A loud crack began the branches journey to the ground. As it fell, it caught Malfoy knocking him to the ground, and pinning him to the floor.  
  
"The boy is utterly mad! He's a lunatic!" bellowed Snape, banging his fist on the table, his greasy hair falling down in front of his eyes.  
  
Dumbledore had called an emergency meeting involving a few key members of The Order to discuss the duel.  
  
"That's the problem. He's a highly skilled lunatic, with great potential" countered Mr Weasley. "but he is out of control. His moods are random, unpredictable. You can't tell which way he'll jump next"  
  
"What we are discussing is a pathetic display of a young boy, who is beginning to crack. Let us try to bear that in mind" continued Snape  
  
He glanced around the table, clearly disappointed at the lack of support he was receiving from the other members. For a while, no one said anything. Harry and Draco had comitted serious offences under the Mis-use of Magic Act, and deciding on their punishment was a difficult issue. Then Mrs Weasly spoke.  
  
"He's probably afraid. He's lost a lot, and he knows he won't get it back"  
  
"We all need to relax. We're all on the same side remember" said Tonks  
  
"We should expel him!"  
  
"Please try to calm down Severus. You know how we need him, and you shouldn't under estimate him" said Dumbledore.  
  
"I don't under estimate anyone" argued Snape "the boy's victory will reflect on us all. I just want to make my disgust at Potter's behaviour perfectly clear."  
  
"How can you make such a claim?" said Tonks getting to her feet "All the witnesses say Draco started it"  
  
"Hogwarts is not the place for rival idologies to be slugged out"  
  
"Has anyone considered that we are using Harry as a pawn to do our bidding?" asked Mr Weasley  
  
"Yes, many times. I shall speak to both boys, if they recover" said Dumbledore gravely.  
  
"Hello Harry" said a faint, but familiar voice  
  
It was a warm, still summer day. Harry was floating over trees, hills and backwaters that wound their way across the scenery with Sirius. They glided onwards, the rich meadow grass seemed to have a morning freshness and greeness unsurpassable; never had it smelt so odorous and pervading. Then the murmur of the approaching wier began to hold the air. A wide half circle of foam and glinting lights and shining shoulders of green water, the great weir closed the river from bank to bank, troubled all the quiet surface with twirling eddies and floating foam streaks, and deadened all other sounds with its solemn and soothing rumble. In the midst of the stream, embraced in the weir's shimmering arm spread, a small island lay anchored, fringed with wilow, silver birch and elder. They swooped down to sit on the dry river bank.  
  
"Just nod if you can hear me" the voice faded, but then recovered, similar to way that the waves lapped against the river bank. A bird pipped suddenly, and was still; and a light breeze sprang up and set the tall reeds and bulrushes rustling.  
  
"Call you tell me where it hurts?"  
  
Then the sun began to set and Sirius disappeared to be replaced by pain; and the trees turned into dark brambles with large thorns. Somewhere, someone was hurting. He felt a great sorrow lay over the land. Then he heard more voices, and someone was crying "Harry Potter must not die"  
  
Then there was a snap, and he was back in the daylight with Sirius, floating over the green fields with the sun light reflecting off the river. He had no sense of time; it was as if time itself didn't exist and they had been in this beautiful day for all eternity.  
  
"Quidditch"  
  
Now they were floating towards Hogwarts, and below them was the quidditch pitch. Sirius became a large black dog and sat between Lupin & Dumbledore in the stand. Harry's Firebolt appear beneath him. He saw the golden snitch and instinctively raced towards it, but there was another seeker. His opponent looked like him, similar height, build but no scar; James Potter, on his Clean Sweep 2.  
  
They chased the snitch around the pitch, Harry caught it first, and the crowd cheered. He let it go, and the chase continued.  
  
"We lost"  
  
Lost? The pitch disappeared and was replaced by darkness. The pain returned, but this time it was closer, much closer. It formed into a body, Harry's body. He was hurting all over. The voices returned, louder and clearer.  
  
"I'm sure Harry won't mind though" said a girls voice.  
  
Slowly Harry began to become more aware of his surroundings. He was lying on something soft. When he tried to move, the pain increased, particularly in his arm & leg. Someone was holding his hand. It felt soft and warm.  
  
He opened his eyes. He was in a large, bright room, the majority of which was blurred, but he knew the three people sitting next to him; Ron Hermione & Luna.  
  
"Urghh"  
  
"Harry!" exclaimed Herimone "you're awake"  
  
"Urghh"  
  
"He can't speak! Do you think he might be brain damaged?" said Ron looking worried.  
  
"Quick, go and find Madam Pomfrey"  
  
Ron got up and dashed away from the bed into the blur that was the ward.  
  
"Harry, can you hear me, it's Hermione. You're in the hospital wing... err..erm.. you've been unconscious since they brought you in last week."  
  
Harry looked at Hermione and then Luna. Luna's eyes were bloodshot and watering. She was holding his hand.  
  
"Thank you Miss Granger, that's enough now, I'll take over from here" said Madam Pomfrey sternly.  
  
Hermione got up, walked round the bed to the other side and stood next to Ron. Luna stayed put.  
  
"Well Mr Potter, you seem to be in here more often than in your dormitory"  
  
"What happened" Harry groaned. Had he fallen off his firebolt? Been injured in a Quidditch game?  
  
Ron's faced looked relieved when Harry uttered this sentence.  
  
"Mr Weasley & Miss Granger would you please get Professor Dumbledore. I believe he would like to speak to Mr Potter. Miss Lovegood can stay".  
  
Ron & Hermione said their goodbyes and walked away. Harry could hear their footsteps on the hard wooden floor.  
  
"Well," continued Madam Pomfrey, "after you and Mr Malfoy had finished trying to kill each other in the forbidden forest, you were found by Professor Leurre & Miss Granger. That was last week"  
  
"Last week !"  
  
"Yes. Last week. You have a serious injury on your leg that I am treating with a mixture a Phoenix tears and bone re-growth potion. The cast on your leg has the solution sealed inside it."  
  
Harry looked at his leg. The bits above the cast were white and withered after being inactive while he was unconscious.  
  
"Also, I had to contact Healer Smithwick at St. Mungo's to treat your arm. It seems that Mr Malfoy used a Dark Magic curse that prevented your blood from clotting. It was very lucky for you that you were found before you bled to death, or were eaten by the thestrals."  
  
"Now I need you to drink this" she said holding up a steaming vile of potion "there'll be no more pain, but you may feel a little sick"  
  
Harry had no doubt that he would be sick, but lay in silence while Madam Pomfrey took his temperature and administered the pain relieving potion. The room wobbled and distorted before his eyes, his arms and legs went numb and he felt very light headed.  
  
"How do you feel now?" she asked  
  
"Erm numb, and a bit happy" said Harry with a vacant smile on his face  
  
"It's a powerful potion, I pity anyone that tries to get any sense from you today. You'll feel better, but don't try to stand". Having finished her lecture, madam Pomfrey turned and walked back to her office.  
  
Harry lay on the bed gazing out of the window. White fluffy clouds were chasing each other across the sky. He heard the door to the room creak open and footsteps coming towards him across the floor.  
  
When they got close enough he could see it was Dumbledore and he didn't look pleased. Ron & Hermione were with him.  
  
"So. You're awake then"  
  
"Ha ha you're old" sniggered Harry  
  
"Harry!" said Hermione, looking shocked  
  
"Ha ha you're bossy" he giggled, looking at Hermione. Ron snorted, and Hermione gave him a dirty look.  
  
Harry turned to Luna "I like you"  
  
"He's just had a pain relieving potion" explained Madam Pomfrey  
  
"I see" said Dumbledore "perhaps we should have this discussion later then". He turned and left. Madam Pomfrey followed.  
  
Ron & Hermione sat down next to his bed, and Harry continued to giggle and grin vacantly for a further twenty minutes.  
  
"Harry, you are in so much trouble" said Hermione. "I can't believe what you just did". Ron nodded  
  
The room started to come back into focus, and Harry felt less light headed.  
  
"I can't believe it either" he said feeling most ashamed "I couldn't help it, it was that potion. Sorry Hermione"  
  
"It's okay. How do you feel"  
  
"Comfortably Numb, and then sore when the potion starts to fade. That stuff tastes worse then the Polyjuice Potion you made"  
  
"Yeah. I've been thinking about that.You know what that polyjuice potion needed? A slice of lemon and one of those little umbrellas" said Ron sarcastically.  
  
"How about a lot more flavour and a lot less hair" added Harry  
  
What have I missed then?"  
  
"Malfoy's left Hogwarts" smiled Ron. "After he recovered from being crushed by a tree, he & Dumbledore agreed that Hogwarts was no longer the place for him"  
  
"How bad was he?"  
  
"Unfortunately you only broke half his bones" replied Ron.  
  
"Oh what a shame" said Harry sarcastically. "He was using Dark Magic and unforgivable curses, you were under his imperious curse."  
  
"Yeah I know. Sorry mate" Ron looked ashamed  
  
"Don't worry about it. He got Hermione as well, remember"  
  
They looked at Hermione and laughed  
  
"Oh give it a rest will you" she said testily. Luna tutted  
  
"How did you find us anyway Hermione?"  
  
"I followed Ron"  
  
"Ah, what about Tonks?"  
  
"Apparently she saw you leave the hall with Malfoy, stuck her head in the fireplace to talk to Lupin. He saw what was going on with his moon guide and told Tonks to get down to the forest" explained Ron.  
  
"They were going to take you to St Mungo's, but it's full" said Luna  
  
"Why, what happened?"  
  
"Voldemort's been stepping up his campaign. St Mungo's is full of muggles that have been tortured, and Wizards that have been fighting with death eaters." Said Hermione, ignoring Ron's flinch.  
  
"All the non-emergencies are going elsewhere, including Lockheart" said Ron.  
  
"Who's got him then?" laughed Harry.  
  
"You have. He's three beds down" said Luna quietly "and he's got his memory back"  
  
"Oh no. I think I just felt my IQ drop a few points" smirked Harry  
  
"Oh yes" said Hermione "and he says he's got some unfinished business with you two"  
  
"Yeah, and we're really scared. Remember that duelling club?" laughed Ron  
  
Ron put on a voice that sounded nothing like Lockhart " Ahem. We have a duelling club now! Which basically means you kids can come and beat the living daylights out of each other."  
  
"Do you really want me to demonstrate just how much of an idiot you are?" joined in Harry, in a voice entirely different to Professor Snape's.  
  
"Fire away, Snapey!" snorted Ron  
  
"Argh I've landed flat on my back, and it really hurts!" laughed Harry.  
  
Where is he now, wandering the grounds again?"  
  
"Probably" replied Hermione, totally unimpressed with Harry and Ron's sense of humour.  
  
"How's the quidditch going?" asked Harry  
  
"I'm really sorry I told you that you were off the team. It was Malfoy, he made me do it"  
  
"Don't worry about it"  
  
"Practices have been awful. Ginny was in here a few days ago"  
  
"She tried that wonky faint thing" interrupted Hermione "but didn't pull up in time. Her broomstick broke in half, and she was in here for a day."  
  
"I hope you don't mind mate, but I've lent her your Firebolt to practice with" Ron looked at the floor.  
  
"I don't think I'll be needing it for a while"  
  
Ron, Ginny, Luna & Hermione stayed with Harry for the rest of the day, and left him a wizard wireless. Just before tea time, Madam Pomfrey came to remove the cast. In the evening, Dumbledore visited again.  
  
Harry apologised for the effect of the potion, and too his relief Dumbledore was no longer cross.  
  
"I have informed the school that you are awake. No doubt you will have more visitors than Madam Pomfrey can stand tomorrow." smiled Dumbledore  
  
He produced his wand from within his robes and drew a blue line on the floor around the bed.  
  
"It's a privacy charm" he explained "no one can hear our conversation. Tell me Harry, why did you feel the need to duel with Mr Malfoy it put me in a very difficult position, having two students seriously injured"  
  
"He was using Dark Magic on my friends". Harry suddenly realised that he had been saving people again.  
  
"Harry, you need to take control of your feelings. If you don't, you will never defeat Voldemort. Also, you need to stop spending so much time with ghosts. You have living friends who really care about you."  
  
"Why didn't you tell me or another Professor?" asked Dumbledore  
  
"It's not me; I always fight my own battles; you should know that by now"  
  
"Yes, that's true" said Dumbledore, surveying him over his half moon glasses.  
  
"Madam Pomfrey tells me that you won't be released from here until you are able to walk, which could be another week"  
  
"But what about my studies?"  
  
"You're going to have to work hard this year Harry. You've got a lot of catching up to do if you want to pass your mock NEWTS in May."  
  
Harry said nothing. He knew Dumbledore was right, but that didn't mean he had to like it.  
  
"You're lucky to be taking any exams at all for two reasons; I had no choice but to ask Mr Malfoy to leave, and he used the killing curse on you"  
  
Harry remembered how Malfoy had cast the spell, and that it hit him on the leg.  
  
"I suppose you're wondering why you're still here?"  
  
Harry nodded  
  
"Well, last year I omitted to tell you about what happened in the months between the prophecy being made and your birth. During that time, I performed a number of spells and charms to enhance your magical abilities"  
  
Harry was shocked; his first reaction was horror. He was horrified that someone had meddled with him, without his consent. What if it had gone wrong? he asked himself. He said nothing for a few minutes and gazed up at the ceiling. The shadows caused by the flickering torches that lit his corner of the room were dancing across the ceiling playing out an array of intricate patterns.  
  
Harry thought about the time that uncle Vernon had tried to strangle him two summers ago, before Tonks, Moody & Lupin rescued him. Then, there was the incident with the Python at the zoo on Dudley's birthday, and the Aunt Marge incident. He had been able to do magic without a wand, or even knowing magic.  
  
"I also performed the same treatment on Mr Longbottom. Without it, he would most definitely have been a squib".  
  
"It's not just part of Voldemort your carrying around inside you, there's also a bit of me. I wanted to give you or Neville the best chance you could have."  
  
Suddenly, Harry remembered something from a frog card long ago. "How did you do it?" he asked quietly, "Grindelwald, how did you do it?"  
Dumbledore's face darkened like he had just leaned back into a shadow, "there are many ways to defeat a man Harry," the old man's voice sounded coarse, "it's best if you don't defeat yourself in the process."  
"I don't understand," Harry said. He had no time for the headmaster's riddles; he had to be rid of Voldemort and of his fears.  
Dumbledore sighed, "I was angry Harry, very angry. Grindelwald had destroyed my family, and my life. When I killed him, I killed a part of myself as well."  
"Oh," said Harry feeling a bit shocked. Ron often joked that Dumbledore had been born with a beard, wise and all knowing. It was almost impossible to see him as a man, even more so, a man who had made dark mistakes - a murderer. Dumbledore had been watching him carefully. Upon seeing Harry settled, he momentarily reflected on his past.  
"They were also dark times Harry," the Headmaster explained. "Grindelwald wasn't as politically active as Voldemort, having come from Europe, but his terror was just the same. Innocent lives were lost and terror ensued; that's partly why I started the Order of Phoenix when Voldemort came to be. Nobody should have to live through that. But, here we are again," Dumbledore sighed and wiped his glasses before continuing on with his story. "I still worked at the school then; I was a Transfiguration teacher. I was able to walk to Hogwarts each morning because we lived in Hogsmeade. We were so glad to have finally settled down, and I have to say that I was ready for a quieter life after working for the Ministry. Grindelwald came to England around the same time that Tom had started Hogwarts. I could feel it when he came; it was like a dark cloud moving in on my life when it should have been my time for rest. It was like trying to breathe underwater when you could still see the air just above the surface. Sometimes, I still wake up at night shivering with the memory."  
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his bed; the headmaster's visage looked as though it was seeing through him and coated in the most terrible sadness. Dumbledore shifted his eyes downward. Hunched in his chair, he seemed so old and tired "It was a Hogsmeade weekend; there were students everywhere," his voice soft and teary, "it had snowed, but it was a sunny day. The snow seemed to gleam and sparkle as I walked down the street with the students. It almost made me feel like the dark shifty shadow of fate had decided to abandon us for a day of much needed happiness. I guess, in retrospect, it's the days like that which always turn out to be the worst."  
Dumbledore paused to set his glasses on the table and began massaging his temples with old and tired fingers.  
"Grindelwald and his supporters turned up in Hogsmeade around noon. Running down the street, I began calling out for the students to get inside. I was already an old man Harry - I wasn't prepared for this. He sauntered down the street as if he owned it while cursing the students; their screams were eerily echoing of the pristine white ground. I called for him to stop; I know he cursed me too, but I can't remember feeling it. I think I was too worried to feel anything else. He wanted the Philosophers Stone and knew I had been working with Nicholas on it. Angry that my first reaction was to defy him, he began to use Cruciatus on the students. I had to listen to their screams. Tom was hit and withered down onto the ground in agony. But still, I wouldn't tell Grindelwald...not at first anyway."  
Dumbledore sighed deeply before continuing in a soft and gentle voice, "It was the Gryffindor curse of fool hearted bravery that abandoned me at last. Still, I wonder what would have happened if I'd held on a bit longer; I would have let them harm my trusts, my pupils, my children. They also had Amy my half blood wife. Tattered and beaten they tossed her in front of me, her eyes begging for help. I guess I couldn't accept that sometimes there isn't any other way. I told them; I told him, told him everything. I fell to the ground, next to my wife and battered pupils, and told Grindelwald - the very face of evil - the secrets to an immortal life."  
Dumbledore's eyes glazed over in memory.  
"He killed her. It was all for nothing. I could not stop myself. My wand was in my hand and the curse left my lips before I knew what happened. He crumpled to the floor as if hit by a heavy weight. The glow that shone around me was the light that flooded back into the Wizarding World, only it stopped at his dead body. I looked at him, whispering to myself in a low voice as if he were sleeping instead of lying there, murdered by my hand. People said he would have killed us all, each in turn, because he was dark and evil. But despite that, I have never forgiven myself. Harry, that's what I was trying to protect you from going through," Dumbledore said urgently snapping out of his glazed reflection, "Harry, it's a different battle; you won't make the same mistake; I'll help you; we'll find another way."  
"A way the Dark Lord knows not," Harry whispered silently. It all suddenly made sense, why Voldemort feared Dumbledore and why Dumbledore trusted Snape. He knew what it was like to come back from a circle of hell. But what way? What other way?  
  
"Anyway," said Dumbledore, "if I don't let you get your sleep, Madam Pomfrey will be after me. Good night Harry"  
  
Dumbledore stood up and walk to the door. Madam Pomfrey came round after he had gone to turn off the lights.  
  
Harry could see it was dark outside through the tall gothic window that streched from the floor to the ceiling. The moon had not yet risen, and there were no clouds. Harry could see the constellation of Orion, which he recognised from his astronomy classes last year. Slightly below and to the left was a bright blue star, it appeared to be flickering. Harry knew it's name; Sirius. A blue super giant that used it's fuel so quickly, it would be gone in a few million years time. Gone before it's time; the light that burns twice as right burns half as long. Like his godfather  
  
Harry realised he'd done it again. Like the time in the Tri-Wizard Tournament when he rescued Fleur's sister, and last year when he thought he was saving Sirius from Voldemort. Instead all he managed to do was make matters worse for everyone, and had to be bailed out by Dumbledore. The Professor was a busy wizard and probably had better things to do than worry about him.  
  
CRACK!  
  
Harry felt a weight land on his chest. He looked and saw the big eyes, long nose and floppy ears of a house elf.  
  
"Hallo Dobby"  
  
"Dobby heard that Harry Potter was better, but Dobby had to visit Harry Potter to see if it was true."  
  
"I'm not better yet"  
  
"Dobby was so pleased that Harry Potter beat Malfoy". He paused and then started banging his head on Harry injured leg.  
  
"Bad Dobby, bad bad Dobby"  
  
"Arrrrrgh !!!" screamed Harry, "stop it, get off, that's my bad leg"  
  
Dobby stopped punishing himself. As he looked at Harry, tears started to appear in his large tennis ball like eyes, and began crying  
  
"Dobby is not meaning to hurt Harry Potter. Not like last time."  
  
"What's going on here?" called Madam Pomfrey  
  
CRACK. Dobby disappeared just as the lights were flicked on.  
  
"You !" she said staring at Harry holding his leg. "time for some more pain relief"  
  
Harry didn't argue. It would help him sleep.  
  
Sure enough the next day, Dumbledore's prediction came true, and Madam Pomfrey had had enough of Harry's visitors by 11 o'clock.  
  
"There are other people in this hospital who need rest. Out! Out now, all of you!" she had said as she chased them out.  
  
Ron came back after lunch, nervously looking around to make sure Madam Pomfrey was elsewhere.  
  
"Hey Harry" he whispered "is she about?"  
  
Harry looked round. "Who?"  
  
"Pomfrey"  
  
"No"  
  
Ron crepted quickly across the room making as little noise as possible.  
  
"Guess what. There's another Hogsmead weekend next month. When does Pomfrey reckon you'll be out of here?"  
  
"Don't know, but I hope it's soon"  
  
They sat discussing quidditch tactics, with the wizard wireless on quietly.  
  
WE INTERRUPT THIS STATION FOR BREAKING NEWS.... An accident has been reported in Diagon Alley when Ophelius Gibbons charged into a crowded shop and starting blasting the patrons with his wand. The Ministry of Magic was quick on the scene and averted the situation before any serious damage was inflicted on any of the customers. More to follow as this story unfolds.  
  
"Blimey, I hope that's not Fred and Georges shop" said Ron. He turned the volume up, but the news flash had finished  
  
"Try another station"  
  
Ron turned the dial and tried a few.  
  
"Murder in South London" from WRN. No. "Accidental drowning" from the third station, No. "Disturbance in Leeds" from the BBC, Even the BBC remarked on the bizarre events of the day.  
  
Unfortunately the noise from the wireless attracted Gildroy Lockhart. His hair was immaculately curled, and he was wearing robes that matched his eyes. When he saw Ron and Harry, his lip curled into a snarl.  
  
"You! I know you! " he shouted from the other side of the hospital wing. "It's your fault I'm in here" He stormed over to his bed and fumbled around in his beside cabinet for his wand.  
  
"This is definitely your fault Ron" said Harry, watching Lockhart as he forgot what he was doing, and then remembered when he glanced in their direction.  
  
"Well he shouldn't have tried to cast a spell with a sellotaped wand! Should have used duct tape...that fixes everything!" smirked Ron  
  
"Oh no. I think he's got it in for us" said Harry as Lockhart marched across the room, his lilac robes billowing out behind him. He raised his arms so that his wand pointing at them.  
  
"Harry, Harry. How could you have done this to me? Don't you remember just how thrilled you were spending that detention answering my fan mail?" asked Lockhart.  
  
Harry tried to think up a quick witty response;  
  
"I think I'd rather have been cleaning the cursed toilets" replied Harry after a few moments.  
  
The smile on Lockhart's face faded.  
  
"Right. That's it. That's the last time you two ever ruin my life again. I haven't sold a single book since my secret came out" he seethed.  
  
"Okay. Now I'm going to teach you a lesson that you will forget" he snarled.  
  
"Don't worry" chuckled Ron, "I've already forgotten all of your lessons!"  
  
"HARRY POTTER AND RON WEASLEY" shrieked Madam Pomfrey. Lockhart quickly put his wand back in his robes and walked sharply back to his bed.  
  
"Good luck" smirked Ron as he quickly gathered his things together. "See yer".  
  
"Thanks mate" said Harry sarcastically.  
  
"I'm going to tell Dumbledore about you" seethed Madam Pomfrey, "how dare you upset my other patients. In the mean time, it's time for some more pain relief so the rest of my patients can have so peace and quiet"  
  
She pulled a vial from her robes and made Harry drink it. The room wobbled again, and then went dark.  
  
Once the exact details of Lockhart's latest attempt to wipe their memories was uncovered, it was decided that he was sufficiently recovered to be discharged. On Madam Pomfrey's insistence, citing disruption to the hospital wing as the main reason, Harry was also discharged the following week.  
  
Valentines Day  
  
Harry stood by the door to the locker rooms, waiting impatiently for Ron to arrive. He was supposed to be there ten minutes ago. After Quidditch practice, he disappeared, instructing Harry to wait for him. It was important he told him. So here Harry stood, tapping his toe on the stone path that surrounded the locker rooms, alone, waiting for his friend. "HARRY," Ron shouted from across the Quidditch pitch. He ran to his friend's side, out of breath. "Thanks for waiting," he gasped, holding onto the stitch in his side.  
"You're lucky I'm still here," Harry snapped. "I was about to leave. I have a date with Luna, and you're making me late."  
"Sorry, but I had to talk to you before you spoke with her. What are you two doing for Valentine's day next week?"  
"That's what was so important? We haven't made any definite plans. We were going to discuss it tonight, until you made me late."  
"How about spending the evening in Hogsmeade?" Ron asked, ignoring his friend's irritation.  
"That would probably be one idea, why?"  
"George and Fred are having a Valentine's party this Saturday, and invited us. It's a real party, Harry, with food and music and dancing. They've already invited over a dozen couples, and Oliver Wood will be there, along with Angelina and Katie. It's a party for couples only. Great idea, huh!"  
"Are you sure they want us to come? It may be another of their tricks."  
"I promise. Even Bill and Charlie will be there, they have dates and everything."  
"I don't know Ron. It sounds a little weird coming from Fred and George, if you ask me."  
"Come on Harry, it's all on the up and up. It'll be fun. I've never been to a real party before, at least not since the Triwizard Ball."  
"But you hated the Triwizard Ball, remember?"  
"That was because I wasn't with Hermione. How would you feel, seeing your girl with a famous Quidditch player?"  
"But she wasn't your girl, Ron. You had the chance to ask her out, and you kept dragging your feet until it was too late."  
"I didn't know how to ask her. You remember what she was like that year, bossy and all."  
"She's always bossy, Ron. That's why she's Hermione."  
"Yeah, well I guess I was just scared. Don't you remember how beautiful she was?"  
"Your girlfriend, mate, not mine. Anyway, I'm still not sure about this party. I mean, it's your brothers, the world's most notorious pranksters."  
"What could happen? We'll be together; and Bill and Charlie will be there, they won't let anything happen."  
"Well..."  
Ron looked serious as he stared at Harry. "Come on Harry. We can talk it over with the girls, and let them decide."  
"Do you really think Hermione would rather go to a party at Fred and George's, or have a quiet romantic dinner?" Ron looked flustered.  
"She'll love the idea."  
"This is Hermione Granger we're talking about, Ron. She has never really approved of the twins' antics."  
"Trust me, she'll love the idea." With that said, the two hurried back to the castle, Ron practically bubbling over with excitement. He was positive the girls would love the idea of going to Hogsmeade for Valentine's Day.  
"Have you lost your mind?" Hermione snapped some fifteen minutes later.  
"But 'Mione, it'll be fun," Ron pleaded as Harry and Luna looked on silently. "It's a real party, couples only. You said the other day you wished the school would have another ball, so we could go dancing. This is even better, it's for adults only. No snickering little kids hanging around."  
"But Ron, it's your brothers," Hermione echoed Harry's words from earlier.  
"I promise everything will be okay," Ron pleaded. "We have spend some time there, and if you're not having a good time, we can leave and I'll buy you the best dinner in town. What do you say?"  
"I don't know," Hermione said, glancing across the table to where Harry and Luna sat listening. "What about you two? Are you going?"  
"With Bill and Charlie there, Fred and George would have to behave themselves," Harry told her. "So I guess we're going, but we aren't staying if they pull any pranks."  
"Come on 'Mione, what do you say?" Ron pleaded again.  
"Oh, all right, but if I'm not having a good time, we're leaving."  
"Straight away, I promise," Ron said hugging his girlfriend. "This is going to be so much fun. I can't wait." With that said, Ron kissed Hermione's cheek and headed for the stairs. "I have to make sure my dress robes look good, wouldn't want to look like a slob.  
"I don't know why he's so excited," Hermione grumbled watching the tall red head bound up the stairs to his dormitory. "With Fred and George planning this whole thing, Merlin only knows what's going to happen."  
  
Saturday evening found Ron standing in front of the full length mirror, combing his hair flat against his head. He had used so much Sleekeasy's Hair Potion, his hair was plastered against his head tighter than Malfoy ever hoped to have his.  
"Capillus Reparo," Hermione said, having seen the condition of Ron's hair.  
"Why'd you do that?" he grumbled, though thankful to know his hair no longer looked like it had been painted on his head, but angry that she felt it necessary to rescue him.  
"You looked like you had a red tortoise shell sitting on your shoulders instead of a head." she told him "Thanks a lot," Ron grumbled "How did you get that stuff to work?" he asked, looking at the sleek, smooth hair that cascaded down her back and across her shoulders like a satin sheet.  
"I've used it before," she told him. "I know what to expect. It takes a long time, but I suppose for special occasions it's worth it."  
"Do you approve?" she teased.  
"Yeah. It's all right," he said, kissing her briefly before turning and heading back down stairs to the common room.  
Harry and Luna were already waiting for them, when they arrived. They were dressed in their new dress robes that Harry had purchased at the end of summer. The aroma of lavender was emanating from Luna's hair.  
"Ready?" Ron asked, holding Hermione's hand.  
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Harry said, looking at Luna.  
"Come on, it'll be fun," Ron said, ignoring the whistles Seamus and Dean offered as they stepped through the portrait hole.  
"Wow, Weasley look at you," Seamus said with a smirk. "You look like a million bucks, or did you get a raise in your spending money?"  
"Shut up, you two," Ron growled, walking with Hermione to the portrait hole. Harry smiled at the teasing expression of the boys, as he and Luna followed   
The party was much as Ron had hoped. Oliver Wood was there, along with his girlfriend, Margorie Wagtail who stated that her little sister was a first year at Hogwart's, and was in Gryffindor. Harry frowned. He remembered hearing the name at first night back to school, but hadn't paid much attention to the little blond haired girl, though he had seen her in the common room.  
"Margie's dad is someone you'll probably be interested in knowing," Oliver said with a warm smile to the attractive blond next to him. "He's part of the Weird Sisters."  
"Blimey!" Ron exclaimed. "Your dad is Myron Wagtail."  
"I know that," Margorie smiled.  
"He's the lead singer," Ron said again.  
"Yes, he is. Do you like my father's music?"  
"Are you mental...I mean yes, yes I do," Ron said again, slightly embarrassed.  
"Well, perhaps you'd like an autograph?" Margorie asked.  
"Are you kidding?" Ron said.  
"Hey Ron," Oliver said, eager to change the subject. "Congratulations on making team captain. I knew you'd do it, I always knew the job was suited for you."  
"It's been hard, but I'm trying to make it work."  
"Remember these things Ron; there's no 'I' in team, there's no such thing as good losers, only losers"  
"Yeah thanks," Ron said. "I'll remember that. We've won every game so far, and it looks like the House Cup will stay with Gryffindor."  
"I'm proud of all of you," Oliver said. "It's so good to know how well you've kept up the team, despite that horrid Umbridge last year. She was a real cretin."  
"Well, she got hers," Ron said with a smirk, clicking his tongue to sound much like horse hooves, causing an eruption of laughter from those gathered around.  
Harry felt a little guilty for having doubted the twins' sincerity. They had been there nearly three hours and were having a wonderful time. Fred and George had managed a superb dinner, complete with games and music. Harry and Luna danced so much their legs felt like lead and they were forced to take time out, to relax a bit. Ron and Hermione had spent a great deal of the evening with Oliver Wood and Margorie or dancing themselves.  
Ron and Hermione left the centre of the dance floor Angelina and Katie had conjured up for the evening. They stepped to the table of refreshments, looking over the assortment of cakes, cookies, pastries, Fire Whiskey, champagne and butter beer. Ron desperately wanted to try his first fire whiskey, but knew it wouldn't pass his brothers, who seemed to be watching him intently. He reached across the large platter of chocolate covered strawberries and retrieved two bottles of butter beer. He popped the caps off and handed one to Hermione, feeling awkward at the way the twins continued to watch him.  
Hermione smiled at Ron, the two of them having already made plans to meet up later that night in the room of requirements. Harry told them just how helpful of a place it was - away from classes and D.A. meetings. Emotions were running high between the two, and Ron was actually considering making their escape, regardless of how desperately he wanted to be there in the first place. They took a drink of their butter beers, their eyes meeting as they swallowed, immediately finding the others lips, pressing into a very deep, passion kiss.  
Harry stepped to their side, shaking his head as he reached for two bottles of butter beer for himself and Luna. Perhaps it was the idea of the party, but he had never seen Ron kiss Hermione so openly before, especially in front of his brothers.  
"You two need to get a grip," Harry teased, glancing to the shocked look on their faces, a muffled grunt echoing from their sealed lips, as their eyes searched Harry's expression. Ron's face was a bright red, his ears flaming and Hermione wasn't much better. They stared at Harry, their lips still tightly pressed, a look of horror in their eyes. Harry frowned as he looked at the two.  
"Are you all right?" he asked, watching as they tried to shake their heads, still grunting. "What's wrong?" he asked again, touching Hermione's shoulder and hearing an outburst of laughter echoing from behind him. He turned to see Angelina and Katie staring blankly at the hysterical antics of Fred and George, who were laughing so hard, they were doubled over, gasping for breath.  
"What did you do?" asked Harry, looking at a horrified Ron and Hermione, still connected at the lips.  
"Pep...Pep..." Fred tried to say around his laughter.  
"Sticking...Peppermint..." George tried to add, but was unable to sound much more than his twin.  
"Bloody hell," Bill said, setting his glass on the table and grabbing George by the arm. "Did you two spike the drinks?"  
"Just theirs," his brother exploded again in laughter.  
"An attraction spell on the bottles," Fred said with a gasp of air, still trying to regain control. "They had to chose them."  
"What did you do?" Charlie insisted.  
"Peppermint Sticking Charms," Bill answered, shoving George into a chair so hard it tipped backward, hitting into a wall.  
"You two promised you wouldn't play any pranks tonight," Katie scowled at George.  
"We couldn't resist," George said, ignoring his younger brother, hoping to stop laughing soon.  
"It's a new line of drinks for the reluctant lovers," Fred said with a bright grin.  
"We'll deal with you two later," Charlie said, hurrying behind Bill who was already at Ron and Hermione's side.  
"We'd better get the basic antidote potion from the medical kit," Bill said with disgust. "Hold on you two, we'll have you apart in a minute." Five minutes later, Ron was rubbing his lips, trying to get feeling back into them, as Hermione was trying her best to hide her embarrassment.  
"It would have worn off after ten minutes," George told Katie, who was so angry he thought she'd spit fire.  
"It was just a joke," Fred told Angelina through a locked bedroom door. "Honest, honey, it wouldn't have done any harm, just a little quality time."  
"We had to try it out on someone," George was telling Katie. "Who better than our little brother?" Ron heard this and without a word, Ron turned and left. He was so angry, he didn't hear Hermione calling to him, or see Harry and Luna running after them.  
"Ron, wait!" Hermione said, grabbing his arm and pulling him to a halt in the street.  
"I am so sick of being the butt of those two's jokes," Ron growled, his fists rolled tightly by his side.  
"Ron, relax," Hermione said as Luna and Harry neared him.  
"Relax? What would you know about it? They never pulled stupid jokes on you, they wouldn't dare do anything to you. But no, let's just terrorise Ron, he's a patsy, he'll fall for anything."  
"Calm down, Ron," Hermione told him. "Let's go to the Hog's Head and get a drink, that isn't enchanted."  
"We'll spend the rest of the evening together, celebrating Valentine's day as friends," Harry suggested, tucking his hand inside Luna's.  
"Sure, we still have a few hours left," Hermione said hoping her calm voice would help soothe Ron who was fuming beside her. "We can share a nice drink and go back to the school, and finish our evening the way we planned." Ron ground his teeth, looking at the attractive girl. He couldn't speak, but he did nod, and the four of them walked silently down the small narrow road to the Hog's Head. They would have normally gone to the Three Broomsticks, but considering how late it was, they knew it had closed over an hour ago. The Hog's Head however, was open until the wee hours of the night.  
They stepped into the tavern, looking around at the nearly deserted surroundings. There was an old witch in one corner, her hat filthy and torn, her clothes soiled and tattered. In a booth not far from her were a pair of gruff looking wizards playing a game of cards, and the shadows of a young couple in a dark corner far from the door. Harry indicated a finger toward a booth near the front, and sat down Luna. The old man behind the counter stared at the four, watching them extremely close as they sat down and discussed what they were going to drink. Ron still wanted Fire Whiskey, but decided to settle on an un-enchanted bottle of butter beer after Hermione tutted. Harry cautiously stepped up to the counter, and ordered four bottles of chilled butter beer.  
The barman was a grumpy-looking old man with long grey hair and a beard. He was tall and thin and as Harry continued to watch him prepare their drinks, he couldn't help but feeling again, that the old man looked familiar. He remembered feeling this way during fifth year, when he first met the old man, but he couldn't put his finger on where he knew him from. Harry took the drinks and paid the old man, who continued to stare at him, making him feel awkward and uncomfortable.  
Back at the table, Harry found the tension as thick if not more so, than it had been when he left them. The three sat in silence, refusing to look at each other, as they took their drinks from Harry.  
"This is ridiculous," Harry said. "All right, so the twins turned what was a really nice evening into an excuse for a bad practical joke. It's over, forget about it and let's have a nice night. And anyway, I think Bill and Charlie will make them pay, don't you?" Ron glanced up at Harry and gave a small smile, thinking about the revenge they would no doubt have in mind.  
"What a night," he said quietly. Ron smiled brightly, leaning into Hermione and kissing her neck.  
"What do you say we finish up here, and head back to school?" Ron asked quietly. Hermione smiled with a blush to her creamy complexion, and looked up as the young lovers in the corner stood and began to walk past them.  
"Malfoy?" she said, much louder then she had intended. He stopped and looked at the four who were staring openly as he walked hand in hand toward the door with Pansy Parkinson "What are you doing here?" Malfoy sneered.  
"Celebrating the holiday," Ron said. "What are you doing here?"  
"That is really none of your business, Weasel," he snapped. "Unless it has to do with the disposal of the likes of you, then it's none of your business. I suggest you four return to school soon, before you get detention again. You are breaking curfew, you know?"  
"We have permission to be out," Harry said. "What about the two of you?"  
"We weren't sneaking Potter, and it's none of your business either. Keep your nose where it belongs, or you may get it burned again." Malfoy and Pansy turned, and left the tavern.  
"What's he up to?" Harry asked.  
"He's starting to really get on my nerves," Ron said. "Why is he sneaking around here? He's been kicked out of Hogwarts "Let's not worry about it," Hermione said. "We have to be going, or we will get in trouble. We have rounds to make in an hour, anyway." Ron glanced up at her and frowned. "You're right," Harry said, reaching out and taking Luna's hand. "We'd better get going." They stood and started to the door, when an odd feeling came over him. "What is it Harry?" Luna asked, slipping her arm inside his. Harry frowned, looking down to her delicate features.  
"Nothing," he told her, taking one last glance around the tavern, and forcing a smile on his face. "Let's go."  
  
The odd feeling turned out to be guilt; he hadn't been to see if Sirius had managed to become a ghost yet. In the end, it was Luna, bubbling over with excitement, who came to see him at breakfast a few days later.  
  
"Harry" she said, sitting beside him at breakfast one morning, "you've got to come and see this"  
  
"See what?"  
  
"I'm not saying here" she replied, lowering her voice so that only Harry could hear.  
  
"Oy, you're a Ravenclaw" called Seamus "what are you doing at our table?"  
  
"I'll see you later at Myrtle's" said Luna as she got up.  
  
"Okay"  
  
If Luna wanted to meet him in Myrtle's bathroom, that could mean only one thing, thought Harry to himself - Sirius.  
  
As he had discovered on previous occasions, time had the annoying habit of slowing down whenever he wanted something to happen. It seemed as if he had been waiting for a week as Harry pushed the door to Myrtle's bathroom creaked open. It was dark inside. There was no moonlight. Only myrtle's dim glow cast any light on the room.  
  
"Harry?" called Luna's voice  
  
"Yeah, it's me" he replied  
  
"Come and see, it's amazing"  
  
He closed the door and rushed across the stone floor, his footsteps echoing off the dark walls. A second glow appeared as he came closer, and Harry wished it would be Sirius. It was, but not the Sirius Harry had known. Instead of the waxy, boney face and tired eyes caused by twelve years in Azkaban, it was the handsome Sirius who was in the pictures of his parents wedding.  
  
"Sirius?" asked Harry, half in disbelief, half in immeasurable joy  
  
"Hallo Harry" said Sirius, smiling  
  
"I never thought I'd see you again. You look great"  
  
"That's not all he can do" said Myrtle excitedly, "go on, show him"  
  
The ghostly Sirius, vanished for a brief moment, and then a huge bear dog reappeared.  
  
Harry, Luna, Myrtle and Sirius sat for hours catching up on the past seven months since Sirius fell through the veil. Sirius wasn't surprised to hear that Fudge was a former death eater, and not the slightest bit upset to find out he was dead. He listened intently to the story of Harry's duel with Malfoy, and praised him on his excellent spell work.  
  
"And Dumbledore still trust Snivellus, does he?" asked Sirius  
  
"Yeah, and no one knows why" replied Harry.  
  
"That's not strictly true" said Sirius wisely "two people know, Dumbledore and Snape; and you're studying Occlumency with one of them"  
  
A smile appeared across Harry's tired face. At last he had a means to solving one of the greatest mysteries in Hogwarts; why did Dumbldore trust Snape? All he had to do was master Occlumency. 


	9. Chapter 9

March  
  
Harry was still smarting about the amount of work he had to catch up on. DA meetings were put on hold, and he couldn't spare any time to play quidditch. Needless to say he would have been in a foul mood if it wasn't Hogsmead weekend again, and he had Sirius's ghost to talk to. Unfortunately he only saw Sirius at night, and as a result, he was constantly feeling tired. However, the depression that had followed him around for the past months was gone, and life felt good for the first time in ages.  
  
"Hermione's going to be late" explained Ron over breakfast. "She had to see Professor Mcgonagall about something.  
  
"Probably extra homework" said Harry rolling his eyes. Harry's injuries from the duel were now reduced to minor aches and pains, or they were until Luna jabbed him in the ribs.  
  
Eventually Hermione appeared, looking irritable  
  
"What took you so long?" asked Ron.  
  
"Nothing you need to worry about" she snapped.  
  
"You know what I think" began Ron. Hermione rolled her eyes. "You need to eat some proper food instead of all that rabbit stuff. Then you wouldn't be so grumpy in the morning."  
  
Hermione looked as if she was about to erupt.  
  
"Did you know that eating fish is supposed to make you really brainy" continued Ron "and that's an animal"  
  
"Well it hasn't worked on you!" retorted Hermione scathingly.  
  
Although the weather had improved, the wind still whipped their hair into their faces as Harry, Luna, Ron, Hermione and Ginny walked across the Hogwarts grounds. They walked down the sweping driveway to the gates whose posts were adorned by winged boars and turned onto the road that led into Hogsmead.  
  
Spring was on the way. The snow had melted and yellow daffodils were beginning to bloom. With the exception of chattering students, the road was silent. As Hogsmead was the only non-muggle settlement in Britain, there were no cars.  
  
"What are we going to do when we get there?" asked Hermione  
  
"Hmm" said Luna dreamily "I could do with a new hat"  
  
"I'd like to go into Gladrags. I need new robes." Said Ginny  
  
Her handed down robes, once black, now grey, were starting to get a bit threadbare. The girls decided that they had better go clothes shopping. They continued walking, the girls talking about new robes, dresses and hats, a subject which Ron and Harry found extremely boring. After five minutes, the narrow streets and thatched roofs of Hogsmead were in sight. The girls said their goodbyes as they reached the outskirts, and headed off to Gladrags.  
  
"What are we going to do?" asked Harry  
  
"What about Zonko's?"  
  
"Do we have to? I think I'm starting to grow out of Dung Bombs & nose biting teacups"  
  
"Yeah, true, but it's a shame when that happens"  
  
"Honey dukes?"  
  
"No. I feel like doing something different. I know !" said Ron quietly, a smile cracking on his face "Fire Whiskey. I've always wanted to try some, but Hermione said no on Valentine's day"  
  
"Yeah, that'll do it" grinned Harry  
  
They continued walking along the high street and into the Three Broomsticks  
  
"I'll get 'em. I look older than you" said Ron as they approached the bar.  
  
"Two Fire Whiskeys please" said Ron, leaning on the bar to Madam Rosemarta.  
  
"I know you two" said replied, appraising them "aren't you Harry Potter and Ron Weasley?"  
  
"Er yeah" Ron replied.  
  
"Then you're too young. How about some Butter Beer instead?"  
  
"Maybe next time" said Ron, disgruntled  
  
They turned and left  
  
"How about the Hogshead?" suggested Harry once they were outside.  
  
"The barman's a bit creepy, but it's worth a go" nodded Ron.  
  
The barman in the Hogs Head refused to let them drink Firewhiskey in the pub, but still sold them a bottle to take away.  
  
"What now?"  
  
"Back to Hogwarts I suppose. I'm not walking around Hogsmead like a tramp"  
  
"A what?"  
  
"Never mind"  
  
It wasn't until much later that evening they were able to sample the Fire Whiskey. The last few students climbed the stairs to their dormitories at just after midnight, but once the common room was deserted, two glasses were poured out. Ron, initially, boiling over with anticipation and excitement, was starting to look a bit apprehensive.  
  
"Cheers" said Harry  
  
They raised their glasses and took a sip. The whiskey was warm and left a smokey after taste. Ron looked relieved that nothing terrible had happened, and took a large gulp.  
  
"Argh" he gasped, holding his throat.  
  
Harry laughed. "You're supposed to sip it"  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"I've seen Uncle Vernon do it"  
  
"Ahh"  
  
After ten minutes, the glasses were empty, and Harry and Ron were feeling a little light headed but otherwise fine  
  
"Another?"  
  
"Yeah. It would be a shame to waste it!"  
  
Another ten minutes passed, and the glasses stood empty. Now they were starting to laugh, and were in the mood for some excitement.  
  
"Let's go and see Hermy" slurred Ron  
  
"Yeah and let's go and see Luna as well" said Harry, his eyes sliding in and out of focus.  
  
"Yeah. No wait. How are we going to get up the stairs?"  
  
Ron had tried last year to get to the girls dormitory without success; The stairs turned into a slide and an alarm went off.  
  
"I know! We'll fly"  
  
"How? I haven't got wings" laughed Ron  
  
"Broomsticks!"  
  
"Where?" smirked Ron turning around, pretending to be suprised. He was now finding himself extremely funny  
  
"Rooooon!" Harry stumbled over to Ron and embraced his best friend in a rather sloppy hug. "We'll go and get our broomsticks"  
  
"Yeah, let's go!" said Ron turning round sharply and pointing towards the door.  
  
"Don't forget the firewhisky"  
  
"Yeah, and be quiet. We don't want to wake anyone up"  
  
How they staggered through the castle to the broomshed without getting lost was a miracle. The racket they made as they crashed into suits of armour would have been enough to wake the entire castle, not just the sleeping occupants of the paintings that lined the walls, who 'Shhh'd' them loudly. Every so often Ron and Harry would take a swig from the bottle, which was half-empty by the time, the reach the double doors that led into the grounds.  
  
They staggered across the grass, ocassionally falling over, until the eventually reached the wooden broom shed. Ron leant against it, trying to remember the spell to unlock it, while Harry gazed up the sky. The crescent moon was occasionally visible between the clouds, and when it was, a ghostly Hogwarts re-appeared from the gloom.  
  
"Done it" announced Ron triumphantly, opening the door and pulling out their brooms.  
  
"I don't think I can walk all the way back to our tower. Let's fly"  
  
"Absolutely," said Ron, patting Harry awkwardly on the back. "Er, are you drunk?" Harry looked shocked.  
  
"Yessss, I think I am" he slurred.  
  
"Wait. I'm going to get Crabbe & Goyle" said Ron  
  
"Why? Why do we want them to see Hermy-on with us?  
  
"No. I'm going to pay them back for all the times they've said bad things about my family"  
  
"Oh, Okay then. I'll go back to the tower and wake the girls"  
  
"Give me a shot of that whisky before I go". Ron took a mouthful, and dribbled half down his robes. "If Hermy wakes up before I get there, tell her I really really really love her"  
  
"Okay"  
  
"Do you like any girls Harry? Yeah, wait, you like Loony Luna"  
  
"Oy! Don't call her Luna. You better behave yourshelf!" Harry shouted  
  
"Shorry mate. And don't shout" yelled Ron back at him  
  
"Aren't you going to sort out Crabbe & Goyle?"  
  
"I'm going to short out Crabbe & Goyle" said Ron with great conviction, whilst leaning against the broomshed to hold himself up.  
  
Harry mounted his broom, then slipped off onto the grass.  
  
Once they had both managed to mount their brooms, they kicked off and shot across the dark grounds towards the doors. It was good to be riding at night with the mild spring air rushing past, forcing it's way into their lungs, they felt alive, indestructible and reckless. The dark grounds were a blur. The castle loomed ever closer; a towering mass of turrets, jet black against the sky. Harry's firebolt was easily faster than Ron's broom, even though it's path wasn't that straight. He braked hard before the oak doors, and slid off the front of the broom and onto the grass, while Ron howled with laughter.  
  
Harry struggled to his feet and lent against the heavy oak door , which opened slowly.  
  
Once inside, the race was on again. They raced each other through the dimly lit castle, banging against the stone walls.  
  
"Ow, that really hurt" whimpered Ron, catching his foot on something hard. Harry, on the other hand, was feeling no pain what so ever.  
  
Ron narrowly made the turning into the corridor that led to the Slytherin common room.  
  
"Byeeee" he yelled, disappearing into a dark corridor.  
  
Harry turned his broom towards the Gryffindor Tower, and shot through the corridors at particularly unsafe speeds, up the stairs to the girls dormitory, and crashed his Firebolt into a chandelier.  
  
He felt the back of his broom slide round, tipping him off onto the cold, hard floor. The broom hit the chandelier with such force that it exploded, showering Harry with shards of glass.  
  
He looked up to see the Firebolt wedged in the wooden structure of the remains of the chandelier. I'm in so much trouble he thought to himself.  
  
The noise woke up the girls, who came out from their rooms to see what was happening. Harry stood up, swayed, and grabbed the wall to stop himself falling down  
  
"Harry" shrieked Hermione "what's wrong? Are you okay?"  
  
"Ron says he really really really loves you"  
  
"Are you drunk Harry?" said Hermione, starting to realise that Harry hadn't been duelling or attacked and understanding why Harry was falling about so much.  
  
"No" smirked Ginny "he's totally wasted"  
  
"No! I haven't had anything all night." He swayed where he stood, then giggled like a girl.  
  
Hermione shook her head. Who had given Harry alcohol? He could get in so much trouble.  
  
Harry could not fight gravity any longer and fell over.  
  
Hermione and Ginny looked down at The Boy Who Lived, who was now crawling along the ground being The Boy Who Couldn't Find His Glasses. He made it to their feet where he sat up on his knees (glasses on his face, where they had been the whole time) and held his bottle up for inspection.  
  
"Look," said Harry, "Firewhisky! You drink it, and your mouth feels like it's on fire. . . but. . . IT'S NOT! Crazy huh?"  
  
"Yep. Crazy stuff, Harry." Ginny patted him on the head. Harry smiled serenely and passed out on the floor.  
  
"We can't leave him here" sighed Hermione "We'd better get him back to his room"  
  
"I think he needs to learn his lesson about messing with firewhisky first. Wait a minute". Ginny returned a few moments later with her make up kit and applied lipstick, blusher and eyeliner to the comatose Harry.  
  
Sniggering, they grabbed an arm each and hauled him up.  
  
"I wonder what Ron's up to" said Ginny as they dragged Harry down the stairs. "I hope he's being better behaved than this idiot"  
  
"Don't know, but I doubt it. Any way Harry looks so pretty we should leave him in the common room" giggled Hermione.  
  
"Where am I? " asked Harry  
  
"Don't worry, we're here to help" giggled the girls  
  
"Thanks" muttered Harry "I really really like you Ginny. Your like the shister I never had. I like Hermy-ony too, but Ron likes her more."  
  
They dropped him into a chair by the fireplace. His head flopped over to one side and he vomited half into a pot-plant, and the rest went over the floor."  
  
"Remind me never to walk in here with bare feet again," said Hermione, wrinkling her nose in disgust.  
  
They left him there and went back to bed.  
  
Harry was vaguely aware of people laughing, but stayed in the chair until the sunlight was so bright it woke him. He opened his eyes, but shut them again quickly and turned his head away from the light. He felt his brain slop against the inside of his head.  
  
Colin Creavey was taking pictures.  
  
"Merlin H Pendragon. Stop that clicking noise; it's too loud" mumbled Harry  
  
"HARRY POTTER !!"  
  
The voice went straight through him, rattling his brain as it did. He knew to whom it belonged. Whenever he had heard it before, he was in trouble. He opened his eyes slowly, and then shut them again. It was, as he suspected, Professor Mcgonagall.  
  
"Look at me Potter, I'm talking to you"  
  
His eyes opened again.  
  
"Can you explain what happened last night?" she said  
  
"Er no" he mubbled quietly.  
  
"So you don't know how your broomstick ended up stuck in the remains of a chandelier outside the girls dormitory, how a suit of armour was almost destroyed, and why on earth you are wearing make-up"  
  
Harry groaned.  
  
"Mr Filtch also said you and Ronald Weasley were racing around the castle at night on broomsticks" she continued  
  
He groaned again. "Where's Ron?"  
  
Several people laughed.  
  
"Mr Weasley was found this morning, asleep on the Gryffindor table, naked, except for a napkin to preserve what was left of his dignity."  
  
The entire common room burst out laughing, but was silenced immediately when the Professor turned her head sharply to look at them.  
  
"Oh no"  
  
"Yes Mr Potter, Oh yes. You and Mr Weasley are a disgrace to the Gryffindor house. You have both lost 100 points each, neither of you are ever going to Hogsmead again. The headmaster is currently writing to Mr Weasley's parents and your guardians"  
  
Harry groaned. The Dursleys wouldn't care, but a howler would certainly be on it's way from Mrs Weasley.  
  
"Step out of line again and neither of you will be playing quidditch either. You've already missed this mornings lessons, now get up and get yourself downstairs for lunch"  
  
Harry heaved himself up. His head felt as though it was too heavy to lift. He looked around at what appeared to be the entire Gryffindor house, laughing and pointng at him  
  
"And Potter"  
  
"Yes Professor" he said sheepishly  
  
"I want you to wash the make up off that face before you show it downstairs"  
  
"Yes Professor"  
  
"And I don't want this to happen again Potter"  
  
"No Professor. It won't" Harry meant it. At that point he never wanted to drink firewhisky again. Slowly he made his way back to his room where he washed and collapsed on his bed and slept until Ron made an appearance a few hours later.  
  
"Never again" said Ron shaking his head slowly. "You'll never guess what happened to me"  
  
"What?" said Harry, half dreading Ron's story, but still intrigued  
  
"They saw me. All of me. The whole school" Ron sat down hard on the edge of his bed, clearly the worse for wear, and held his head in his hands.  
  
"How?"  
  
"Somehow I got onto the Gryffindor table without my clothes" said Ron thickly  
  
"How did that happen?"  
  
"Don't know, but all my clothes were found outside the Syltherin common room"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I don't know and I can't remember" said Ron starting to worry "and I'm covered in bruises"  
  
"Yeah me too. Mcgonagall said that Filch saw us racing on our brooms in the castle"  
  
"That could explain it"  
  
Not having eaten since the previous evening they made their way down to the great hall. As they entered the Gryffindor common room, they were greeted by cheering, slaps on the back, and a scowl from Hermione.  
  
"Not another lecture please Hermione" begged Ron "Mcgonagall's already done it, and we're starving"  
  
She hissed and nagged at them incessantly about alcohol abuse, and how people had thrown their lives away needlessly, all through the corridors until they reached the Great Hall and sat down at the table. It irritated Harry, but he knew they deserved it.  
  
Ron was greeted with cheers and whistles from the Slytherin table.  
  
"Oy Weasley, I didn't recognise you with your clothes on!" called Pansy Parkinson loudly.  
  
"Don't fancy yours much" mumbled Harry "looks like a right old troll". Ron shuddered while Hermione tutted.  
  
At least Sirius found the whole episode hilarous; his laughter echoed around Myrtle's bathroom when Harry and Ron told him later that day.  
  
"Your dad and I got completely trashed on Firewhiskey once" he grinned. "Don't remember a thing about it though"  
  
"Bet neither of you ended up on the Gryffindor table" moaned Ron.  
  
"Nope." Smirked Sirius. "Didn't end up wearing make-up either. Is there something you're not telling us Harry?"  
  
Ron and Sirius roared with laughter, which upset Myrtle, and she returned to her U-bend with a resounding splash.  
  
As expected, the howler arrived at breakfast the next morning. Ron saw the crimson envelope as the owl carrying it flew in through the window. The owl landed clumsily among the breakfast bowls and milk jugs, and the envelope start to smoulder. Ron took a deep breath, paused, took it from the owl's beak, and then opened it.  
  
"RONALD WEASLEY AND HARRY POTTER" yelled Mrs Weasley's voice, magnified so that everyone in the Great Hall and surrounding corridors could hear. Harry was quite surprised to find out it was addressed to him as well.  
  
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING MESSING ABOUT WITH FIREWHISKY? BOTH OF YOU ARE FAR TOO YOUNG".  
  
Harry thought his eardrums would burst as Mrs Weasley's yells echoed are the hall.  
  
"OWL FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT. RACING ROUND HOGWARTS ON BROOMS, AND BEING FOUND STARK NAKED IN THE MORNING".  
  
The Slytherin table was howling with laughter. On the Ravenclaw table Cho Chang was laughing so much, she was in tears, clutching her sides.  
  
"AND HOW DID HARRY GET A MAKEOVER ??"  
  
Ginny looked at her breakfast, while Harry felt as though he wanted to die.  
  
"IF EITHER OF YOU ARE IN TROUBLE AGAIN, THERE'LL BE MORE TROUBLE WHEN I GET HOLD OF THE PAIR OF YOU. YOU'RE WORSE THAN FRED AND GEORGE".  
  
The yelling stopped and the crimson envelope turned in ashes that fell into a small pile on the table. The laughter however continued for some time.  
  
"Ron, " began Hermione once everyone had gone back to their own conversations "Harry told me something on, you know, that night"  
  
Harry looked shocked, he was desperately racking his brain, trying hard to remember what he could possibly have said. Ginny groaned, knowing full well where this conversation was going.  
  
"Watsat" replied Ron spraying his mouthful of toast over the table.  
  
"He told me" she said, taking a deep breath "he told me that you loved me"  
  
Ron looked horrified, and scowled at Harry, who sat there, mouth agape.  
  
They left for their potions class without another word being spoken.  
  
That evening started peacefully; the air was warm and still. The only noises were of the creatures stirring in the forbidden forest. Harry, Luna, Ron, Hermione and Ginny sitting on the sloping lawn under the full moon, discussing their day.  
"So how did you get make up all over you anyway?" asked Ron staring at Harry. Ginny and Hermione looked at each other briefly, the turned away, desperately trying to stifle their giggles.  
"I bet it was gnomes" said Luna, sounding convinced Mortified, Harry buried his head in his hands, and was almost feeling grateful that she was interrupted by a loud howl.  
"Oh god. What was that" said Hermione, biting her lip.  
  
They sprang to their feet, and turned in the direction of the scream. Two girls were running away from the forest, apparently in a blind panic, not far from where they were sitting. Then a shape that looked like a large black dog shot out of the forest in pursuit.  
  
"The Grim" gasped Ron, his voice sounded shaky  
  
"No. It's worse than that." Whispered Hermione  
  
"It's a werewolf" said Harry, looking at the full moon.  
  
They could hear the girls casting spells over their shoulders at the animal, but they were shooting blind. In any case, the few spells that did hit it were powerless to stop the beast.  
  
"It's Marietta and Cho" said Luna, suddenly recognising the girls running across the lawn. She got to her feet and ran across the grass to them, with Harry and the others following closely behind.  
  
The wolf caught the slower runner in a few powerful bounds, who let out a blood-curdling scream as she fell. Her companion stopped, but could only watch in horror as her friend was dragged away by her leg across the grass and back into the forest.  
  
"It's got her!" Marietta cried. "It's got Cho! Harry, you've got to save her!"  
  
There were tears streaming down the girl's face. She was hysterical.  
  
"Get your wands out." Said Harry turning to Ron & Hermione "  
Luna, can you go back inside with Marietta and get the first Professor you find to come and help us. Ginny, please get Hagrid."  
  
"I want to go!" said Ginny stamping her feet. Luna was already leading Marietta back to the castle.  
  
"No, it's too dangerous," Ron said. "Just think. What would mum say if she found out? We need you to get help. Go and find Hagrid"  
  
Ginny scowled at him then turned and followed Luna.  
  
"C'mon, let go. We're wasting time." Said Hermione, taking steps towards the dark, forbidding forest. Harry and Ron followed, breaking into a sprint.  
  
"Why are we doing this?" asked Ron "With werewolves, there are usually no survivors."  
  
"We have to go," Hermione panted. "If we didn't try to save her, we'd never forgive ourselves."  
  
Harry ran at top speed. He was barely aware of Ron behind him. In his head, he was hoping that she wasn't dead.  
  
Finally, they found the wolf's foot prints, signs of something begin dragged, and a trail of blood. The tracks deviated off into the woods. As they got closer, they could hear growling that echoed throughout the woods.  
  
In the clearing, Harry saw the werewolf , and at his feet - paws - was Cho's mangled, bleeding body. She was contorted in an impossible position, but when Harry peered at her from the distance he was at, he could see her chest rising up and down.  
  
She was still breathing. She was still alive.  
  
Horrified, Harry watched as the wolf bent down and picked Cho up again. She was held tightly in his jaws as he shook her around like a rag doll. He didn't know if she was still breathing after that.  
  
"We've got to stun him," he heard Hermione say. "It's the only way to do it without killing him."  
  
"But if we miss, it may be too powerful," Harry answered. "It'll kill her."  
  
Harry's heart plummeted to his stomach. What was a werewolf doing in the Hogwarts grounds anyway? But he didn't have time to think about that. Cho was in trouble. There had to be something he could do. They needed a distraction. Something that would make it drop Cho and get her out of the way so that they could stun it .  
And suddenly, he realised what he had to do. He jumped out into the dark clearing. The wolf heard him right away, and turned towards him, Cho still locked in his jaws.  
  
"Harry! No!" Hermione shouted.  
  
Harry took a deep breath. The stag had saved his life on more than one occasion. Now, hopefully, it would save Cho's.  
  
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry shouted at the top of his lungs.  
  
Instantly, a silvery-white stream erupted from his wand, and his father's stag charged into the clearing. The wolf appeared to be in awe. It's eyes were wide and wild, and his tail was between his legs. He opened his mouth to howl, and Cho fell out, crashing to the ground.  
  
"Now!" Ron shouted.  
  
"STUPEFY!"  
  
The wolf was hit by stunning spells, it stopped howling and flopped over on his side, nearly landing on Cho .  
Harry quickly collected his Patronus and ran forward into the clearing. The wolf was out cold. Cho was lying in a heap, her body covered in blood. Harry was nearly sick at the sight of her.  
  
"It worked," gasped Hermione.  
  
Suddenly a the sound of something large crashing through the under growth startled them. Harry, Ron and Hermione spun round to see Hagrid with his crossbow. He had obviously ran, as he was sweating and panting. A few moments later Ginny appeared.  
  
"What's 'appened? " he gasped "Ginny said som'in' about" He saw the werewolf lying in the clearing, next to Cho.  
  
Hagrid walked over and carefully picked up Cho. "Come on, let's get back to the castle."  
  
Harry wasn't sure it was even wise to be moving Cho but he didn't know what else to do.  
  
"You don't think... she's not going to die, is she?" he asked  
  
"Perhaps it would be better if she did." Replied Hagrid  
  
Harry stopped dead in his tracks, outraged. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Harry, have you forgotten what happens to someone when they're bitten by a werewolf?" Hermione hissed.  
  
And then Harry realised the awful fate that awaited her. But it was better than death. He'd just realised that even though she wasn't his girlfriend anymore, he still cared for her.  
  
There were back at the castle even quicker than they left it, but it all felt like it was too long for Harry. He worried they were too late. Every second mattered.  
  
When they got back inside, Dumbledore was there to meet them in the entrance hall. A stretcher was hovering beside him, waiting for the patient. Hagrid gently placed her on it.  
  
"Thank you Hagrid. Would you mind waiting here for a while, I may have further need of your services"  
  
"Right 'o" replied Hagrid  
  
Dumbledore whisked the floating stretcher through the dark stone corridors up to the infirmary. It was dark inside the ward, nothing was moving apart from two house elves, who turned to greet him  
  
"Master Dumbledore" they squeaked  
  
"Where is Madam Pomfrey?"  
  
"She's in the store room collecting supplies." The elf replied "I'll summon her for you"  
  
The elf disappeared into the gloom.  
  
"Poppy will take care of her," Dumbledore said. "I'm afraid I don't know how much she can do. There's not much time. Soon, she won't be able to do anything."  
  
The dim light cast shadows on his wrinkled face. It was only at times like this, when Dumbledore was under the greatest pressure, that he really showed his age.  
  
"Where's the wolf?" Dumbledore asked, taking a deep breath.  
  
"He's still in the clearing," Ron answered. "He's out cold. He won't be up 'til morning. We hit it pretty hard."  
  
"I see." Dumbledore nodded and turned to the house elf beside him "Misty, would you ask Hagrid to tend to the beast please."  
  
The second elf disappeared with a loud pop.  
  
"Hermione, you will be pleased to know that I have arrange for these elves to be educated in medical matters," said Dumbledore. "As you know, they posses the necessary intelligence, that, and their ancient magic makes them ideal nurses."  
  
Hermione nodded  
  
"Has this ever happened before?" asked Harry "you know, with the werewolves in the forest"  
  
Dumbledore shook his head. "There were never any werewolves in the forbidden forest. It was a myth; a myth intended to keep students away from the creatures in there"  
  
"So how did it get into Hogwarts?" asked Hermione "according to Hogwarts: A History..."  
  
Dumbledore shook his head gravely. "I don't know." 


	10. Chapter 10

April  
  
It was a bright morning in the early part of summer; and the warm sun seemed to be pulling everything green, bushy and spiky up out of the earth towards it. However, not even the sun's power could penerate Hogwarts thick stone walls. The mood inside the castle was solemn and dark in the days that followed the attack. Many students were worried that Hogwarts was unsafe. Rumours to this effect echoed in whispers around the classrooms and the Great Hall.  
  
Worse, The Daily Prophet had caught hold of part of the storey. It didn't know the full facts, as names were missing from the article. However, the truth wouldn't stop them displaying their usual array of speculations and accusations directed to Harry in particular. It reprinted one a Rita Skeeter's stories about him being friendly with a werewolf. New stories appeared daily, each one worse than the first.  
  
Saturday morning came with an unusual rainstorm, bringing a cold wind and a deeper sense of dread to the school. Harry found himself sitting absent-mindedly in a chair in the Gryffindor common room, staring at the fire. How could a werewolf get into Hogwarts? It didn't make sense.  
  
The new safety precautions that had been put in place since the attack meant that no student was allowed out after sunset. As it became dark at about 6 o'clock in the evening, this effectively cancelled all Quidditch practices during the week. A rota was drafted for the weekends, so that each team got an equal amount of time on the pitch.  
  
Unfortunately, it was Hufflepuff's turn today, so Harry was bored.  
  
"Master Harry Potter" squeaked a tiny voice that made Harry smile.  
  
"Dobby" he grinned  
  
"Harry Potter. It is good to see you"  
  
"Thanks. Is good to see you as well" Harry replied, looking down at the elf, who looked back with his big tennis ball sized eyes.  
  
"I have a message for Harry Potter from Choo."  
  
"Cho" corrected Harry  
  
"She is better and would like to see you"  
  
"Okay" Harry yawned. "Let's go past the Ravenclaw common room. I'll get Luna." He didn't want to see Cho by himself.  
  
Dobby led Harry and Luna through the castle to the infirmary; which was totally unnecessary, as Harry had been there on many occasions before. He could probably walk there in his sleep if he had to.  
  
Madam Pomfrey was waiting outside, and spoke to them before they went in. "She's going to make it. But she is... She's a werewolf now. There was nothing I could do. Nothing more that I can do."  
Madam Pomfrey looked as though she had failed  
  
"You can see her if you want. She's... she's had quite a shock. Be prepared. She doesn't look well. But I know she needs her friends now."  
  
Harry nodded, took a deep breath, and walked past Madam Pomfrey with Luna and into the ward. Luna held his hand.  
  
He was surprised to see that she was sitting up in the bed. She had her knees pulled up to her chin, the bed sheet covering her from the waist down. As he peered at her through the dim light, he realised that she was shaking.  
  
Harry studied her face and saw that there were the remnants of a nasty gash on her cheek and a black eye. Madam Pomfrey had already started the healing process on the outside, but Harry wondered when it would begin on the inside. There were more scrapes and bruises along her arms and a deep cut that started at her shoulder blades and disappeared beneath the shirt she was wearing.  
  
"I... I don't remember what happened," she whispered. Her voice was hoarse. "I don't remember... after it grabbed me..." She shuddered. "How did I survive?"  
  
Harry couldn't speak. He didn't know what to tell her - how to break it to her. Was she better off not knowing?  
  
"It was actually Harry who saved you," said Luna  
  
"He did?" Cho didn't look at either one of them. Something was very wrong about her.  
  
"He distracted it with his patronus. If he didn't drop you..." her voice trailed off.  
  
She looked Harry in the eye, but her gaze was wild and her eyes were wet, filling with tears as she spoke. "Why did you let me live?!" she exploded. "I hate what I am. What I've become! I don't want to be a werewolf..."  
  
Cho was crying hysterically. Harry's heart broke for her. "I'm a monster!" she screamed. "A monster!"  
  
Her breath came in shallow gasps, as wiped her tear-stained cheeks. She looked so helpless, so vulnerable.  
  
"What am I going to do now?"  
  
They were interrupted by voices in the corridor outside.  
  
"We've got to," he heard Tonks say. "Dumbledore said..."  
  
"He didn't say we had to register her," Remus interrupted. "He said we just needed to take care of her."  
  
"But it's the law," she protested. "If Cho's caught, she'll be branded a renegade."  
  
"Why would she be caught?" Remus questioned. "There's no reason why we can't hold off on it for a bit. We should wait. You don't realise what it's like - how terrible it would be for her. The Werewolf Registry is a terrible place. Once you get your name on that list, your life is never the same again."  
  
"But they'll know," Tonks said. "People - especially the Ministry - are bound to get suspicious when she starts becoming ill around the full moon. It will only be a matter of time before someone figures it out."  
  
"But until then," Remus interjected, "I believe it's best if we just keep it quiet."  
  
"Shhh..." Tonks hushed.  
  
They walked into the ward  
  
"How are you Cho?" Remus asked at once.  
  
"How do you think?" replied Cho angrily. "Are you here to welcome me to the club?"  
  
"Oh dear." Said Tonks  
  
"What were you talking about?" asked Harry  
  
Tonks and Lupin exchanged glances, both looking grave.  
  
Tonks sighed. "Cho's, er, condition is quite a predicament. All werewolves need to be registered with the Ministry."  
  
"But" interrupted Lupin, if her condition was known to the public, the results could be disastrous. She would certainly have great difficulty getting a job."  
  
"But that's prejudice!" Cho cried.  
  
Remus's hands coiled into fists. "That's the way it is when you're a werewolf. No second chances. No special treatment. There is no forgiveness for a monster." His eyes were grave. "It's only a matter of time before you find out who your true friends are. And I guarantee you'll have many more enemies."  
  
Madam Pomfrey brought over a tray with a flask filled with some peach-coloured liquid. "You need to make sure you drink this entire potion."  
  
Cho took the flask, sniffed it, and then took a sip. She coughed and sputtered. She glanced at Harry, then took a deep breath, and drank the contents.  
  
Cho was tiring quickly. Her eyelids would drop every once in a while, and he had to wonder what was in that potion Madam Pomfrey had instructed her to drink.  
  
"I think we ought to let Cho get some rest," Harry said quietly to Luna.  
  
Harry and Luna were taking a walk, up to the Owlery. Luna wanted to send a report about the attack to her father, and Harry had said that she could borrow Hedwig. They crunched their way over the tiny white bones that littered the floor.  
Harry called Hedwig down from her perch high in the roof. She glided silently onto his outstretched arm, and hooted softly.  
  
"She's just an adorable owl," said Luna, fastening the letter to Hedwig's leg.  
After she sent Hedwig off, Luna took Harry's hand in hers and kissed him. Harry now knew what he had to do. He wrapped his arms around Luna and held her tight. This felt better than kissing Cho. With a shock Harry loosened himself from Luna, and looked out over the grounds. How could he think of Cho, when he was kissing Luna. He now had an idea how Cho had felt, when she had kissed him. At least he didn't act like a human hosepipe.  
"Have you thought about what you're going to do during the break?" asked Luna  
  
"Not really"  
  
"Well, since we didn't get to see any Crumpled Horned Snoracks during the summer..". Harry stomach churned; he knew what was coming next.  
  
"Well, "continued Luna, "would you like to come with us or not?"  
  
"Yeah. That'd be great" lied Harry, forcing a grin. "I've never seen one before".  
  
"Neither have I. What do you think about Cho?" asked Luna.  
  
"Couldn't have happened to a nicer girl" Harry replied sarcastically.  
  
That evening Harry had Occulmency with Professor Snape. Normally he would not be looking forward to this, but he remembered what Sirius had said. Tonight, he was determined to break into Snape's mind and solve a puzzle that had bothered him since his first year in Hogwarts.  
  
He banged on the door to Professor Snape's office, then pushed it open. As always, the room was cold and dimly lit. Jars of pickled creatures filled the shelves in the room. It was an unpleasant sight.  
  
"You're early for a change Potter" said Snape silkily. He was sitting behind his desk, marking essays. "Sit there until I have finished".  
  
Harry did as he was told, and tried to calm and clear his mind. It wasn't easy when thoughts like "That's another 'P' for someone" kept floating through his head.  
  
"I hope you've been practising Potter" said Snape after he had marked the final essay. "I'm growing tired of giving up my evenings to such a hopeless case".  
  
Snape stood, walked around the desk and drew his wand.  
  
"Legilimens!" said Snape, as usual, without warning  
  
Harry's mind was blank. "There's nothing for you here Snape" he kept thinking to himself. He felt confident, in control.  
  
"Legilimens!" said Harry  
  
He was inside Snape's mind, in a tunnel. For a moment he didn't recognise it, then he realised that it was the one that led to the shrieking shack. He heard howling, then saw a large dog, or a wolf. Someone was pulling him back, away from the animal.  
  
"Come on Snivellus. Do you want to get bitten?" Harry looked. It was his father; he looked worried. Harry had just witnessed James Potter saving Snape from Sirius's prank.  
  
The vision faded, and then he was in Dumbledores Office.  
  
"You owed James Potter a wizard's debt. Unfortunately your information was unable to save him and Lily" said a younger looking Dumbledore  
  
"But that's the only reason I agreed to spy for you" said Snape angrily "surely the debt must be cancelled now"  
  
"No" said Dumbledore gravely "it has been transferred to Harry Potter. This puts you in a difficult position. Voldemort, your master, has sworn to destroy him, and yet you must protect him"  
  
"NO. THAT'S ENOUGH" roared Snape.  
  
Harry was back in the office, on all fours, sweating. His knees were grazed. Professor Snape was leaning clutching the wall, pale and clammy. For a while neither said anything while they recovered.  
  
"Well it seems you have been practising after all. Now get out"  
  
Harry grimaced as he pulled himself up on a desk. As he hobbled towards the wooden door, his back turned, Snape called out "Obliviate"  
  
"Protego" said Harry. The spell rebounded, causing Snape to duck. It struck the shelves on the wall behind him, breaking some of the jars.  
  
Harry turned, his wand drawn, to see Snape soaked in embalming fluid. He had learnt two things that evening; Snape's secret, and that he did fight dirty. It wasn't difficult to see why his father had disliked him.  
  
"Don't ever repeat what you saw tonight Potter. You are interfering with things that don't concern you"  
  
Harry couldn't have got out of Snape's office any faster if he was on his Firebolt. He wasn't going to stay and argue. He had beaten Snape, and he knew exactly what he had to do first.  
  
Naturally, the first thing he did was tell Ron, who leapt around the common room overjoyed and startling a group of first years. Next he told Hermione and Luna. Then he went and told Sirius, who was almost more estactic that Ron  
  
Harry's euphoria disappeared the next day when he was summoned to Professor Dumbledore's Office.  
  
"I hear that your Occlumency lessons have progressed rather well" said Dumbledore  
  
"Er...Yeah, not bad" replied Harry, a little nervous.  
  
"Harry, I need to know exactly what you have learnt. May I?" he asked.  
  
Harry nodded  
  
"Legilimens" said Dumbledore.  
  
The events of the previous evening flashed before Harry's eyes, including Harry telling Ron, Hermione, Luna and Sirius  
  
"Hmm" said Dumbledore thoughtfully "It would be no use modifying your memory to make you forget. I see Sirius is back amongst us"  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Next time you see him, would you ask him to come and speak with me. Thank you Harry. You may go now. Oh, and there is a meeting of the Order I would like you and Miss Granger to attend later this afternoon".  
  
Harry, Hermione and Dumbledore travelled to The Burrow by portkey after their lessons for that day were over. They arrived just in time for the start of the meeting, which was attended by the usual members, with the exception of Tonks and Professor Mcgonagall who were probably still at Hogwarts, Harry suspected. Dumbledore stood up and opened the meeting once they had all settled into their seats around the oak table. Harry was surprised to see Fred and George, but remembered that they had joined The Order at Christmas time. They were dressed in their best dragon hide suits.  
  
"Miss Granger as kindly agreed to join this meeting, to discuss the issue of house elves".  
  
"Booooring" called Fred, faking a yawn. Harry rolled his eyes.  
  
Hermione ignored him. "Yes. Thank you Professor" she beamed.  
  
"Would you tell us about spew," began Snape. George tried to stiffled a laugh.  
"S.P.E.W." she corrected automatically.  
"Whatever, but is it true that your goal is to free all the house-elves at Hogwarts by knitting clothes for them?  
"Erm, well" said Hermione, clearly flustered by this unexpected line of questioning. "They can't help it they're brainwashed to think they have to work all the time," Hermione said stubbornly.  
"Brainwashed or not, if they do not want it, you cannot force it on them. Forcing freedom they do not want on them would be no better than forcing servitude on them," Snape said "Did you not think that setting them free, just because you want them to be free, would be fair?"  
"Dobby didn't mind" "The other house elves think Dobby is a regular scandal, getting wages and time off. Remember, Dobby wanted to be freed" added Mrs Weasley.  
"Yeah, that's true" said Tonks "still I expect you always get one weirdo"  
"Dobby's not weird" snapped Hermione "Well Harry told me once that Dobby was singing 'Ninety-nine house elves jumpin' on the bed!' when he first met him" chipped in George.  
"Yeah, 'n didn't Dobby warn Harry that he should stay away from school or he was gonna hurt him good" added Fred.  
"He was trying to save Harry's life, wasn't he Harry" said Hermione, getting to her feet, and glaring at Harry.  
"Yeah"  
"This is not the path I had intended for this discussion" said Dumbledore firmly." please sit down Miss Granger"  
"As you know" he continued "House-elves are very powerful magical creatures in their own right. Their magic, which requires none of the types of focusing tools that our magic requires, is capable of producing very powerful charms."  
Harry remembered that Dobby had used his magic to enchant a Bludger, to close the magic portal that leads to Platform 93/4, to interfere with Owl Post and steal someone's letters, to knock Lucius Malfoy down a flight of stairs, and he also can disappear at will.  
"That's true" said Tonks "they use a very powerful form of ancient magic"  
"Unfortunately, as long as they're enslaved, they aren't likely to be using this magic for anything but their mundane work." Said Dumbledore shaking his head. "It would be interesting indeed if we could convince the house elves to stand up for themselves and perhaps even fight against Voldemort."  
  
Hermione was horrified. "You... you don't mean to use ... them as, as soldiers in the war do you?"  
  
"One way or another they will be drawn into this war. It is in our interest to ensure they are on the right side" said Mr Weasley.  
  
"Don't worry Miss Granger" said Dumbledore. "House elves are too important to lose."  
  
The meeting finished and Harry was puzzled why Dumbledore had invited him, there seemed very little of any relevance to him. At least the twins had provided some entertainment, even if it was Hermione baiting.  
  
He glanced at the clock on the mantle of the fireplace. It was half past six.  
"We'd better get going, Harry. They are expecting us." Said Lupin  
  
"Back to Hogwarts then?" said Harry, wondering why Lupin would be going as well.  
  
Remus shook his head. "The Ministry, by Floo Powder."  
  
"Does Dumbledore know?"  
  
He shrugged. "Of course, I think he knows everything. His eyes and ears are everywhere - just as Voldemort's are. There's no keeping a secret from Dumbledore. But not everyone present at the next meeting can be trusted."  
  
Harry felt butterflies in his stomach as he followed Remus down the corridor on the ninth floor of the Ministry of Magic. He knew where they were going. He just didn't know why.  
  
He had been in Courtroom Ten before. It was for his hearing last summer when he used magic to fight off two dementors that attacked him and Dudley. It was not a pleasant experience. But what was even more eerie was walking through the Department of Mysteries, knowing that Sirius had died only a few meters away.  
  
His first conclusion was that he must have done something wrong. Perhaps he broke a law that he was unaware of. Or was he being called as a witness?  
  
When they reached the stairway that led to the tenth floor, Remus gave Harry an encouraging pat on the back. "Go on. They're waiting for you."  
  
Harry hesitated. "You aren't coming?"  
  
"I'd rather not deal with them right now, if it's all the same to you." He frowned. "Besides, it has already been decided."  
  
"What has?"  
  
Remus gave him a shove. "You'll see." He winked at Harry, then turned around and swaggered down the long hallway through the Department of Mysteries.  
  
Harry turned away, took a deep breath, and began his ascent to the tenth floor. When he reached the doorway to Courtroom Ten, there was a guard. He was relived to see that it was not a Dementor as it had been in the Pensieve. It was merely a tough-looking wizard. He took one look at Harry and unlatched the door. It was covered with iron bolts that the guard threw open with some force.  
  
Harry sucked in his breath as he entered the dimly lit dungeon. The walls were made of dark stone, and he felt as though he was stumbling to his very first Potions lesson that he'd had as a first year in the depths of Hogwarts. Torches were mounted on the walls, the flames dancing across the uneven floor.  
  
Harry realised that he had stopped moving and he was slightly trembling in the wake of the courtroom. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.  
  
"Mr. Harry James Potter," a voice boomed from the darkness. "Sit down."  
  
Suddenly, the chair in the centre of the dungeon was illuminated in bright light. It was covered with chains. The very same chains that had once held many Death Eaters captive. Harry gulped and slowly made his way to the chair, sitting down on the cold seat.  
Were they going to chain him to the chair as they did with every criminal?  
  
Harry somehow found the courage to look up at the Wizengamot. They were all dressed in plum-coloured robes with elaborate silver W's stitched on one side. Harry recognised the woman who spoke. It was Amelia Bones, Susan Bones's aunt. She sat in the benches above him, peering down at him through her monocle. Dumbledore, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, was sitting on her left side, looking indifferent. When Harry met his eyes, however, he could feel a spark of excitement.  
  
He cleared his throat. "My apologies, Harry." But he could tell that he wasn't really sorry. "You have been called here, in front of the Wizengamot, to recount the events of the past few weeks. Severus Snape has already testified on your behalf."  
  
Testify? Was he on trial? And the more pressing question on his mind - why would Snape ever testify on his behalf? He didn't dare ask these questions out loud. Perhaps they might only hold it against him.  
  
"Before we come to a verdict, the Wizengamot wishes to question you about the recent events surrounding your visions." He glanced up at the Wizengamot. "It's your floor, Amelia."  
  
The square-jawed, grey-haired witch stared at him with such intense eyes that Harry found it hard to look away from them. "Harry, would you please recall the vision you had on the night of the Azkaban Fortress breakout?"  
  
Harry nodded. He was so utterly confused that the vision seemed to be the only thing that made sense to him. It was still vivid, even after all this time. He glanced at Dumbledore, who nodded encouragingly. Harry launched into explanation of what he had seen in the Wizarding prison. "Then I reached for my scar because it was tingling. It was the eeriest sensation. It didn't hurt; it was just... extremely sensitive. Then next thing I knew, Professor Leurre was shaking me" he added .  
"And the Dark Lord didn't see you?" a voice from above questioned. It came from an elderly man who Harry didn't recognise. "He didn't know you were there?"  
  
"No," Harry replied confidently. "He didn't. If he would have known that I was there, my scar would have hurt." He wondered why there was such a sudden interest in the fact that his scar was no longer hurting. Before, it had been such a big deal if he felt any pain. Now, he rarely felt any.  
  
"And what of the Occlumency lesson you spent with Professor Snape?"  
  
Shocked, Harry did a double-take of the member of the Wizengamot who asked the question. "Excuse me?" He must have not heard her right. What did his Occlumency have to do with anything?  
  
The tall, leathery-skinned witch who had asked the question stood up. "Mr. Potter," she repeated loudly, "when you performed Legilimency on Severus Snape, what did you see?"  
  
Harry felt his cheeks grow red. He didn't see how that was at all relevant to whatever was going on inside the courtroom. Why should he have to recall that memory; surely it was supposed to be a secret?  
  
And then he realised what it was all about. Practising Legilimency must have been against Wizarding law. He knew he should have never tried the spell on Snape. Now he was going to get his wand snapped in half for trying to see a memory that he never wanted to remember.  
  
"Please answer the question, Harry," Dumbledore urged.  
  
Harry took a deep breath and looked down to the floor. He was ashamed. "When I tried to read Professor Snape's mind, I saw him - I was him. I was being pulled back along a tunnel by my father." He paused. "At the end of the tunnel was a werewolf."  
  
"Then what?" the witch encouraged.  
  
Harry felt his face flush even more. "Then I was in Professor Dumbledore's Office. He was reminding Professor Snape that he had failed to save my parents " He spoke quickly, wanting it to end.  
  
"And what was Professor Snape thinking?"  
  
All heads, all but Harry's, snapped in Dumbledore's direction. Harry felt anger well up inside of him. Why did he have to admit to everything? Why was Dumbledore making him recall this extremely awkward memory?  
  
Harry sighed. "He was thinking, "How did this happen?" And then it was over."  
  
The courtroom was silent. Harry suddenly realised that he was gripping the arms of his chair so tightly that his knuckles were white. It felt like hours before anyone spoke again.  
  
Amelia Bones stood up from her seat. "Clearly, he is ready for the next step." Most of the other wizards and witches on the Wizengamot nodded in agreement. The next step? His punishment?  
  
But the witch spoke up from the floor. He shook his head. "Snape used the Pensieve in front of him. The results are inconclusive. The test was faulty. Harry saw him extract the memory."  
Utterly bewildered, Harry couldn't take sitting in silence any longer. He was still embarrassed from his recollection of the memory in the first place. "I beg your pardon, but what's going on? Am I trial?" he demanded.  
  
"See," Amelia Bones said. "He doesn't even know why he's here. He didn't even know he was being tested. Clearly, the license should be granted. He has insight into the Dark Lord's plan. He will aide the war. He will be a great asset to our fight."  
  
"He is more than an asset," Dumbledore stated. "He is a sixteen-year-old young man. He has the heart of a child, pure and of good intentions. He has a curious mind and a knowledge of magic that puts him at the head of his class." Harry felt himself blushing at the compliments. "He will use his gift wisely."  
"Good intentions or not," Amelia interrupted. "The Wizengamot must be unanimous in order for a license to be granted."  
  
"And who, on the Wizengamot, objects?" Amelia Bones said  
  
"License for what?" Harry asked. But no one seemed to hear him.  
  
"Then without further ado, as I'm sure we all have other places to be," Dumbledore said, standing up. "I am calling this matter to a vote. All those in favour of granting Harry James Potter a license to practice Legilimency, please raise your wands."  
Harry watched, open-mouthed, as every member of the Wizengamot raise their wands in unison, including Dumbledore.  
  
"As there are none opposed, please bring forward the contract for Harry to sign."  
A piece of golden parchment with the Ministry's seal on it produced. Dumbledore brought it over to Harry and gave him a large, peacock feather pen for him to sign with. "Please sign on the line below."  
  
Harry hastily read the parchment before putting his signature on it.  
  
I, the undersigned, swear to practice the art of Legilimency in the most moral, ethical, secretive, and just ways. As a skilled Legilimens, I will not take advantage of weaker minds and will adhere to the policies set forth by the Ministry, or will face the consequences set up by the administration thereof.  
  
It took Harry a moment for it all to sink in. He was on trial, but not for committing a crime. They were testing him. This was what Dumbledore was talking about when he called Harry a weapon. He had already learned the best defence against Voldemort through Occlumency. Now he would go on the offence, using Legilimency.  
  
Harry signed the slip of parchment. Dumbledore took the pen back from him and rolled the contract back up.  
  
"Congratulations, Harry. You are now the youngest Legilimens since the Dark Lord himself."  
  
Harry felt a shiver down his spine. He didn't know whether to thank him or not. Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Harry, you can leave now. Mr. Lupin will be waiting outside the corridor. He will escort you back to Hogwarts. In the meantime, prepare yourself. Legilimency instruction will begin in the days ahead. And Harry, please do not tell anyone at Hogwarts of tonight's events."  
  
Harry nodded. He quickly got up from the chair and walked back to the door he had come through. He was very thankful to be one of the few who stood on trial in Courtroom Ten and walked out a free man.  
  
I should be studying thought Harry to himself as he stared out of his dormitory window at the blue sky. To the east, the red glow signified the imminent rising of the sun. He listened to the birds through the slightly open window. It was Saturday, the first day of the mid term break, and Harry groaned as he recalled his promise to go and hunt the Crumpled Horn whatsit with Luna. It was only his affection for her that convinced him to go; if he wasn't careful, he would probably end up as mad as she was. He smiled to himself; that was just the way he liked her.  
  
Harry had been awake for half an hour already, and was packed, dressed and ready to go. Luna had left Hogwarts the previous night to help her dad with the camping equipment, but she had given Harry a Portkey to the site.  
  
Ron's snoring ceased abruptly, and he sat up in bed  
  
"The bird's are a bit noisy" he yawned. "Where are you off to so early?"  
  
"I'm hunting Crumpled Horned things this weekend with Luna and her father."  
  
"Are you mad?" goggled Ron  
  
Luna tangled one hand through his black hair and stroked his ear with the other as they began an enthusiastic snogging session. This time something went horribly wrong. Her eyes snapped open in time to see his face bubble and change, but she was physically unable to extract herself from his embrace. Luna wriggled and tried to escape, but her lips seemed plastered to this shape-shifting oddity. Luna fought back a gag as Harry's face shimmered and she found herself face to face with a large, hairy, smelly, Crumple-Horned-Snorkack. She was finally able to break contact, as it had no discernible mouth, and she moved backwards reaching behind her ear for her wand. The Snorkack growled menacingly and advanced, but Luna was ready for it. She pointed her sausage at it and bellowed, "breakfastus nummy-nummums!"  
  
Sausage? Where did the sausage come from?  
  
Luna sat up in the unfamiliar bed with a sigh. At least this time it hadn't been Snape.  
It was 6:10AM. She swung her feet onto the ground and stood resolutely - the alarm would have woken her in twenty minutes anyway. She bathed and dressed as quickly as possible and headed towards the small tent kitchen to start breakfast. Luna's stomach growled menacingly (so that's where the sound effect had come from!) and she decided that today was a large breakfast day.  
  
She began assembling ingredients on the counter and table and with a flick of her wand, flour, eggs, milk, sausages, and assorted fruits began forming themselves into dishes. Luna had done this many times since her mother had gone, and was far better at it than her father. Cookbooks had been unnecessary for at least a year - she had memorised and refined all of their favourites. There was absolutely no fear of owls dropping by with threats to cease her underage magic, either - that was the beauty of living in an officially all-wizarding household.  
  
Luna's father walked into the kitchenette in his pyjamas, wild hair resembling an angry game bird. "Morning daddy," she smiled as he kissed her on the top of the head. She handed him a large mug of strong tea; he squeezed her shoulders and headed over to the table trying to smooth down his hair.  
  
"So, what are we having today?" he asked after a few sips of her strong brew.  
  
"Um, you know, this and that," she answered noncommittally, focusing her attention on an egg beater that was feeling particularly surly this morning and was trying to rough up a neighbouring bag of sugar.  
  
Her father stood, gulping the last of his tea and said, "I'm sure whatever it is will be marvellous dear. I'll just go and make myself presentable, then."  
  
"Uh-huh," she mumbled distractedly as he left the room.  
  
When her father returned from his communion with toiletries and fresh clothing, he was ready to eat. The table was filled with dishes ranging from scrambled eggs to mashed potatoes. Luna was already helping herself to a slice of birthday cake.  
  
"Birthday cake? Hmm. Whose birthday is it this time, love?" he asked nonchalantly.  
  
"Umm. The tent," she answered through a mouthful of eggs.  
  
"Oh. Well then, happy birthday, brave Sir Tent," he said as he filled his plate with mashed potatoes, eggs, sausage, fruit crepes and a thin slice of cake. He offered the first forkful up as a toast, exclaiming, "Huzzah for you, old man!" and began to eat.  
  
Luna was concentrating on a spot on the wall at the far end of the room, but lifted her glass of juice nonetheless in a silent tribute to the tent. The rest of their breakfast was completed without incident. She knew the tent was glad she had remembered.  
  
The silence was broken by a loud crack, followed by an 'ouch'.  
  
She sprung from her seat and said, "That must be Harry, Dad. Can you manage the clean-up?"  
  
"I think I may," he said as he began sorting through his notes, "but remember that we're meeting the guide in half an hour, so be quick."  
  
"Uh-huh," Luna mubbled as she went outside.  
  
The tent was pitched on a grassy plateau between the snow topped peaks of two mountains. Placed randomly around the tent were a number of green leaved thorn bushes. She took a deep breath of the cool, clean mountain air. The sun had only recently risen over the eastern peak, and had yet to dispell the glowing dawn mist.  
  
Harry was getting to his feet. He was badly scratched and his clothes were torn in places. The portkey had transported him into the middle of a particularly large bush.  
  
"Quickly Harry" said Luna grabbing his arm, "come inside the tent. This is dangerous countryside. Being outside alone could leave a person vulnerable to unimaginable dangers"  
  
Oblivious to any danger, real or otherwise, Harry allowed himself to be led into what appeared to be a small brown tent. As he learnt from the Quidditch world cup, wizarding tents were often larger inside than they appeared, so he wasn't supprised to see Mr Lovegood eating his breakfast in the middle of a large room.  
  
"Morning, Harry" said Mr Lovegood "Toast?"  
  
"Thanks" said Harry helping himself.  
  
"Great issue of the Quibbler coming out next week; 10 things you didn't know about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named". Mr Lovegood seemed particularly enthusiatic. "Arthur Weasley suggested it".  
  
Harry remembered how Mr Weasley told him that the Quibbler was going to carry special articles for The Order.  
  
"Did you know he was a half blood? His father was a muggle" said Harry helpfully.  
  
"So the rumours go. I wasn't going to put that one in, as there's not much supporting evidence"  
  
Harry nearly sprayed his toast all over the inside of the tent, but settled on choking on it instead.  
  
"Careful there Harry" Mr Lovegood contined "But Arthur was very insistent. Anyway I'm off to plan our route for today."  
  
Luna's father called her from what sounded like just outside the door of the tent ten minutes later, and judging by his slightly annoyed tone of voice, it was time to meet the guide.  
  
She grabbed her jumper and daypack, then tromped happily through the tent flap, her braided hair coming apart in a giant dirty blonde halo around her face she shed her daypack, untying her sweater from around her waist. Harry followed for his first guided tour of the Swedish countryside  
  
That evening they returned to the tent, utterly exhausted, having walked for hours beside an endless river. Despite the distance travelled, not one single Snorkack had been seen. Her father, staggered through the entrance completely bedraggled, throwing himself face first on the couch.  
  
"Glass of water, dad?"  
  
"mmph."  
  
"I agree completely. Is there anything that Ermengard doesn't know? I mean she's not even a local, and she knows where all the best bugs hide, and all of the local Snorkack legends!" Luna ran back to stand in front of the couch and bent slightly over to stare at her father's arm where it was busy covering his eyes. "Dad? Honestly, I would think you of all people would be a little more excited! We're on the verge of an amazing discovery! Dad?"  
  
In response, Luna's father let loose a giant, emphatic snore.  
  
"What do you think Harry?"  
  
Harry's feet were aching, and had not been taking the slightest notice of what Luna was saying.  
  
"What?" said Harry removing his shoes and socks to reveal sickle size blisters.  
  
"Are you listening?" she asked suspiciously  
  
Assuming an innocent expression he replied, "Of course I was listening intently to your lecture on the.....what did you call them - Horned Whosits?"  
She grinned as she shook her head. "That proves you were not paying attention! You can't even remember their proper name!"  
  
"What's for dinner? I so hungry I could eat a Crumple Horned Thingy"  
  
"It's more likely to eat you, they are reputedly carnivorous, not herbivorous." Said Luna, sounding uncannily like Hermione.  
  
"I think I'm going to eat, then sleep" announced Harry.  
  
"Aren't you going to wash first?" asked Luna looking horrified.  
  
"No."  
  
Arching her eyebrow wearily, Luna said, "You might enjoy smelling like a wet kneazle I do not relish it, so I think I'll bathe first. Then I'll turn my attention to the insides of my eyelids."  
  
Harry woke to find himself in a strange bed. His thigh and calf muscles were painfull, and his feet felt as though they had swollen to the size of balloons. He sat up to look at them. The blisters had shrunk, but were now leaking.  
  
Great he thought. And there's more to come today.  
  
He could hear Luna talking to her father in the kitchen.  
  
"Well I suppose you did have the right to be a bit overcome with emotion last night."  
  
Harry thought he caught a glimpse of something moving inside the tent out of the corner of his eye. He reached under his pillow for his wand.  
  
"Who's there?"  
  
Slowly,a flappy pointed ear, followed by large green eyes appeared from behind the doorway.  
  
"Harry Potter mustn't be angry with Dobby" squeaked the elf.  
  
"Dobby" groaned Harry "Are you stalking me?"  
  
"Dobby hears that Harry Potter is hunting Crumple Horned Snorkacks and has come to protect him"  
  
"How can I be in danger from something that doesn't exist?"  
  
"Young Miss and Weazy said Dobby should go"  
  
"Aren't you needed at Hogwarts?" asked Harry, faking a concerned tone of voice "I've heard that Crumple-Horned Snorkacks will attack it today and eat all the plants"  
  
Dobby looked teriffied and gave a frightened squeak then vanished with a loud crack.  
  
In the kitchen, Luna sat down with a cool drink and began rebraiding her hair. She began organising the day's adventures in her head. Having decided that they would follow the river up stream this time, she made her way to the bathroom.  
  
After waiting outside the bathroon for the best part of twenty minutes, Harry began to lose his patience.  
  
"Luna! Please come out soon and stop being a toilet-hogging only child!" Harry called from outside the door  
  
"Nearly done" she replied dreamily.  
  
Fifteen minutes passed before she opened the door.  
  
"What have you been doing in there?" asked Harry exasperatedly  
  
"Cleanliness is so important. Don't be long; we're meeting the guide again soon." Said Luna swaning away to her room.  
  
The day was as unproductive as yesterday. Not a single sighting of anything remotely magically or unusual. However, Luna seemed to be enjoying herself.  
  
"It doesn't matter if we don't see any, because that just makes the mystery more interesting. I mean if we found conclusive proof..."  
  
We wouldn't be traipsing all over this mountain all day long grimaced Harry to himself.  
  
The hike continued through the river's floodplain (the Snorkack's natural habitat). The sun shone onto the back of Harry's neck, before long it started to burn. His feet were soaked after trudging through endless miles of mud and he wished he had some murtlap escence to put on his blisters. After another hour they stopped for lunch. Part way through their pumpkin pasties Luna let out a scream of delight.  
  
"A worm!!"  
  
"Don't worry. It won't hurt you" said Harry sarcastically.  
  
"No, it's not that. It's a brown worm". Luna was jumping up and down on the spot.  
  
The relevance of this escaped Harry. "Aren't brown worms every where?"  
  
"No, no. That's the common grey worm. Don't you see?"  
  
Harry shook his head.  
  
"The Swedish brown worm is the main part of the Snorkack's diet" Luna said excitedly, "we're getting close now"  
  
The encounter with the worm turned out to be the closest they got to a Snorkack, and Harry was glad to return to the tent.  
  
"Well, the mystery contiues" said Mr Lovegood wearily  
  
Not for me it doesn't thought Harry. As much as he still liked Luna, there was nothing on earth that could make him go Snorkack hunting again.  
  
"So" asked Ron unable to supress a laugh, "did you find any interesting creatures?"  
  
Having survived Luna's expedition, Harry was now dreading the prospect of having to endure derisory comments from his fellow Gryffindors, who no doubt thought he was as mad as Luna.  
  
"No. We saw a Swedish brown worm"  
  
"But you did enjoy a nice peaceful weekend away, with dramatic scenary, didn't you?" asked Hermione, who was sitting next to Ron in the common room.  
  
"No. I spent the entire weekend walking. I have blisters the size of galleons" moaned Harry.  
  
"As long as you enjoyed yourself" mocked Ron.  
  
"So what did you two do then?"  
  
"Nothing". Hermione glared at Ron.  
  
"Who put Dobby up to following me around anyway?"  
  
The final Quidditch match was scheduled for late April, and, once again, Gryffindor were favourites to take the cup. The weeks leading up to the game brought with it the usual excitement of the Quidditch final game between the two leaders, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Harry, Ron and Ginny were busy practising for the big game, while Hermione was left to research in the library. She was determined to find everything she could about House elf culture, and how it could be used to enlist their help in the coming war. Over the past few weeks, her research had become an obsession. She spent every waking moment away from classes and homework, in the library. So far she had found little, if anything that would benefit the order.  
  
Ron was growing frustrated with the added work while they prepared for the Quidditch match, as well as their upcoming mock exams. He was irritated about the amount of homework and growing angry at the lack of attention from his girlfriend. His attitude was beginning to rub off on everyone around them. Even Seamus and Dean were snapping at each other as the hours grew into frustrating days.  
  
Harry was trying to keep his head about him, but it wasn't easy. His mind kept flitting back to his last occlumency lesson with Snape, wondering if he was plotting a terrible revenge. Then there was he Legilimency classes, and the prospect of spying on Vodemort himself. Finally, he found his mind focused on Luna, which, althoug pleseant, was still distracting.  
  
Ginny was feeling the frustration of her O.W.L.s as well as the irritability of being moaned at by Ron.  
  
By the time the final game arrived, the frustration had grown into some violent outbursts. Ron and Hermione had set it off with a full-blown fight, that started with her telling Ron "It's only a game", and ending with Ron getting a slap. After that he decided not to talk to anyone, including Neville and Luna, although neither had done anything to annoy him. Harry and Ginny weren't much better, but the most stressed person was without doubt Seamus. He hit Dean in the face, breaking his nose and sending him to Madame Pomfrey. Even the teachers seemed to be fighting; Professor Mcgonagall was seen arguing with Professor Sprout after she told her that she had been clearing a space in her office for the Quidditch cup.  
  
"That cup hasn't resided in your office for the past fifty years" yelled Mcgonagall "and it won't for another fifty"  
  
Ron had managed to bring about a great deal of practice sessions and when they mounted their brooms for the final game, they knew exactly how to read the actions of the other members of their team. They were in perfect sync with each other, passing the quaffle with ease and skill, while Harry kept an eye open for the golden snitch.  
  
Predictably, the Sytherin's were supporting Hufflepuff, much to the displeasure of the Hufflepuff team. Despite Malfoy's absence the Slytherin's were teasing, tormenting and throwing insults at Ron, Ginny, Harry and the rest of the team at every chance.  
  
Thankfully match day arrived before anyone inflicted any seroius harm on their fellow students. The atmosphere at breakfast was highly charged; the electricity could be felt rebounding off the cold grey stone walls. The merest spark could have set off a full scale riot.  
  
As in previous years, the match was to be played on Saturday morning, so that lesson would not have to be cancelled. Ron looked up at the ceiling of the Great Hall that had been bewitched to display the sky.  
  
"Bright sunlight, but it's shining towards the Hufflepuff end, so we can use that to our advantage" he was mubbling to himself.  
  
After breakfast came the Ron's team talk in the changing rooms, which was full of "There's usually a breeze coming off the lake, so watch out for it", and "The sun is behind us, so we can use that when we attack"  
  
"Remember, we're not just sportsmen, and women" he added, noticing the scowl from Ginny, "wining or losing reflects on everyone in Grffyndor house"  
  
Harry was reminded of Hermione's statement about it only being a game, and realised, that for Ron, it wasn't; it was a battle against a terrible enemy that would give them no second chances.  
  
Madam Hooch's shrill whistle started the game. Almost immeadiatly Ginny scored. After ten minutes it was clear that Grfindor were on course for yet another victory; Hufflepuff were being flatterned.  
  
Ron called a time out after forty five minutes of playing, just when Harry had caught sight of the little fluttering sphere near the rings at the Gryffindor end of the pitch. Ron was irritated from having to listen to the Slytherin's constant jeering and felt the team needed a rest to revise their strategy.  
  
The strategy would be to capture the snitch now, while they were leading by a considerable margin. Ron believed that it was time to use the Wronski Feint, and a chaser would join the rest of the team to defend the goal. This would allow everybody to try to spot the snitch.  
  
The game began again, and Harry pretended to mark Zacharias Smith, the Hufflepuff seeker, while waiting for his chance. Huffle puff pulled a few goals back. No one had yet seen the snitch, which allowed Harry to pretend.  
  
He stirred his broom away from the Gryffindor end of the pitch, glancing across his shoulder to see the trick working, as Zacharias headed off right behind him. He dodged and twisted around the support posts of the house towers, then went into a head on dive towards the ground. Instantly Harry pulled back on his broom, taking his firebolt into a straight up pitch, and then maneuvered the sleek broom toward the Gryffindor end of the field. Then he saw the snitch.  
  
Zacharias saw the trick too late, reaching the ground and twisting his ankle as he tried to pull up in time to avoid a full-blown crash. With pain throbbing up his leg, he headed after Harry, but was too late. Harry's fingers stretched out and wrapped around the golden object. The game was over and Gryfindor had won the cup again.  
  
Suddenly Harry was thrown from his broom. He scrambled to retain control of it with one hand, while the other continued to hold tightly to the winged ball, but to no avail. He landed on his back in the mud. The force of the impact had winded him, as he gasped for air, he saw Ron racing towards the Hufflepuff seaker.  
  
Ron, however was mad, his anger growing to heights he hadn't felt in a very long time. He raced up behind the Zacharias, his leg reaching out and kicking the back of the young man's broom, tipping him backwards until he led his broom into a three hundred and sixty degree circle. The crowd was screaming because Harry had caught the snitch, then because the two players were about to take on each other, fists balled and looks of hatred on their faces. Ginny saw the expressions and headed as quickly as possible toward the two, but by the time she had reached them she was too late.  
  
Ron and Zacharias had hold of each other's robes, Ron had a received a particularly nasty blow and was forcing himself to see through a very swollen eye, while his opponent was trying to regain composure from receiving a fist in his own face, a fat lip and a crooked nose to show evidence of the angry blow he had received.  
  
Madam Hooch was at their sides in no time flat, blowing her whistle violently. However, they were too angry to hear, each throwing punches while holding onto their brooms. It wasn't until two very firm sets of hands held them back, did they realise what was going on. Snape had mounted a broom - the first anyone had ever seen him on - while Ginny had used a rope spell to control Ron. Both young men were surprised and angry; now with those holding them back then with each other.  
  
"Detention for both of you," Madame Hooch growled. "One week starting tonight. This game is over."  
  
Ron had no choice but to follow after Ginny to the locker room, he was still in ropes.  
  
"Let me go!" he snapped as she dragged him into the locker room ahead of the rest of the team.  
  
"You have to be the thickest wizard in all of Hogwart's," Ginny insisted, waving her wand and releasing him from her spell. "Why did you do that, and right in front of the entire school?"  
  
"He started it. What was I supposed to do, just walk away and pretend nothing happened?"  
  
"That's not funny Ronald," Ginny growled. "Your temper just cost you an entire week of detention." She glanced around to make certain the other team members had headed to the showers.  
  
"Who cares?" snapped Ron, "that little git's had it coming since last year"  
  
"Hey you guys," Dean said heading out of the showers, a towel around his waist, his hair dripping to his shoulders. "Are you going to stand here fighting all day, or are you going to join us for the victory celebration?"  
  
"Yeah, we're coming," Ron said, glaring at his sister.  
  
"Great, because it starts in five minutes."  
  
"We'll be there," Ron told him, turning back to Ginny. "That is if it's all right with you?"  
  
Ginny tutted. "I'll let you have the worst hex you could ever dream of."  
  
"I think I already got that," growled Ron. "When you tied me up in front of the whole school."  
  
"If you're not careful, I'll do worse than that next time." Ginny turned and left the locker room, unable to bear the sight of her brother any longer.  
  
The evening meal that night was eaten with a great deal of excitement. Everyone except for the Hufflepuff House was eagerly reliving the final game. There was a great deal of talk about Ron's fight, which did little to relieve Ginny's anger.  
  
Dumbledore sat in Myrtle's bathroom explaining the prophecy to Sirius's ghost.  
  
"So tell me, Sirius, are you familiar with the changeling theory?"  
  
Sirius nodded. "Yes, but you aren't serious are you?"  
  
The dim light in Myrtle's bathroom cast Dumbledore's face into shadow. It was at times of great stress that he really appeared his age.  
  
"It would explain so much. Why the other Fawkes-cored wand chose Harry, Why the Sorting hat wanted to put Harry in Slytherin, Why Harry's so good at escaping from Voldemort, how it is that he seems to know what to do instinctively"  
  
"Maybe, or perhaps Harry is just a damn good wizard. Look at James & Lily" countered Sirius. "I mean he fought a mountain troll at 11, killed a Basilisk at 12, used the Patronus Charm against a whole group of Dementors at 13. Then there was the Triwizard Tournament, not to mention that he fought twelve adult Death Eater's and survived last year."  
  
"You are quite right" agreed Dumbledore "those are exceptional achievements, but have you ever thought why?"  
  
Sirius shook his head. "But it's just so unlikely"  
  
Dumbledore turned to face the wall and cleared his throat.  
  
"When Voldemort attacked Harry in Godric's Hollow and the curse rebounded on him, it split him in two. The inhuman parts that he'd acquired through magic and different Dark Arts transformations during his adult life, together with his conscious memories was the first half. His human parts with his "soul" and his original innate powers and temperament with only a vague memory of his own name was the other"  
  
"The first part escaped to distant lands, and the other" Dumbledore paused. Saying it would turn his theory into something tangible. "And the other part connected with Harry who happened to be the closest living being in range"  
  
Sirius took a deep breath. Being a ghost, this was unnecessary, but old habits die-hard.  
  
"Harry Potter thus became a hybrid entity containing two souls and two innate temperaments and Voldemort became a powerful embodied evil memory. To top things off, I also enhanced his abilities before his birth, so there's part of me in him too" concluded Dumbledore.  
  
Dumbledore sighed and looked at his feet  
  
Sirius sighed, and for a while neither said anything. The only noise in the bathroom was the distant gurgling from the toilet where Myrtle was resting.  
  
"So it explains why Voldemort's wand chose Tom Riddle and its brother chose Harry; they both have with Tom Riddle's soul inside." Said Sirius. "It's not suprising he's in such a state"  
  
Dumbledore turned away from Sirius, and stared at the wall  
  
"How long have you known?" asked Sirius, looking at the back of Dumbledore's head.  
  
"Since last year. A rather useful instrument of mine picked up the two souls." Dumblesore cast his mind back remembering how two snakes had appeared, and he mubbled "In escense divided. It also has implications for the prophecy"  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"How Voldemort would be able to get his soul back without it killing Harry in the process? If Voldemort simply kills Harry with an Avada Kedavra curse, it seems logical that both souls would be lost to him, and then neither would live. In order for Voldemort to win, he needs to find a way of extracting Tom Riddle's soul from Harry's body and then kill him.  
  
"But if he were to do that, how will that affect him since his soul's been living the life of Harry Potter, being filled with love, for 16 years? It might not suit him at all anymore. It might destroy him," said Sirius  
  
"Neither can live while the other survives" recited Sirius  
  
"Indeed. It is a complex problem, and I shall devote some thought to it"  
  
"I want to help. What can I do?" asked Sirius. "I might be dead, but I'm still his godfather"  
  
"He's no longer a child. He needs to be prepared"  
  
"Is that why you let Malfoy attack him and his friends?"  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "But he must not know about Tom Riddle's soul"  
  
"Doesn't he know already?"  
  
"I believe Voldemort isn't aware that he's missing his soul. Harry is equally oblivious that he's the one holding it. So it must remain."  
  
Dumbledore began to pace along the grey flagstones again  
  
"There's one more thing" he said "Of all the people in Harry's life, you are the one person he is most likely to listen to."  
  
Dumbledore turned, fixing his gaze onto the ghost. "I need you to make sure he studies, and trains hard. Perhaps you could even tutor him. He'll need all the help he can get if he's to fight Voldemort, now that things are more... difficult." 


	11. Chapter 11

May  
  
Hermione was avoiding Harry. She had noticed that around May every year Harry began trying to save the world; which was interesting and exciting as long as she and Ron were involved. However, as soon as one of them was overcome by petrification, broken limbs, madness etc. it simply became depressing, and distracted her from her exams. Hermione suspected that her failure to attain perfect marks last year was directly related to Harry's efforts . This year Hermione's exams mattered more than ever before, these exams would determine her future, and just this once Hermione was going to do her own studying and let Harry save the world all by himself.  
  
If she had forgotten how much work was involved in studies for examinations, she soon remembered.  
  
There were still three weeks to go before the first sittings, but pressure was starting to tell; Ron was getting irritable, and Hermione started giving detentions to anyone that dared to make too much noise in the common room.  
  
The teachers had finished their classes and were devoting lesson time to revision. For the first time in his life Harry felt as if he could actually use a pensive to store all his thoughts in. Perhaps that way they wouldn't keep escaping.  
  
Exams came around exceptionally fast causing massive amounts of groaning, moaning, whining and grumbling. "I don't see what everyone hates about exams. People always act as if it's the end of the world or the worst thing that could ever happen to them. What really is the big deal? If you ask me, exams are much better than lessons. Much easier." explained Hermione to Ron, who was beginning to believe that he was too stupid to take exams "Really." said Ron in disbelief, rolling his eyes towards to ceiling. "I wish I was as clever as you Hermione"  
"You don't have to learn anything new - just remember what you've already been taught, you get tons of time off when other people are being tested and, to be honest, how hard can remembering a load of facts be? I know I'm particularly good at it, but it's not about intelligence; everyone's been to the same lessons. It's all a question of how many of the facts they cram in to your brain all year you can recall. Simple".;  
"That didn't help". Ron turned back to his book  
  
The Intelligence Boosting Potion is to be handled with care. No more than 5 ml of the solution will boost the intelligence (one IQ point more than the person already had within). Before using the potion, it is necessary to know one's IQ, as too much potion can bring the level back to zero. The potion will wear off after an hour, no matter how much was used...  
  
"That might" he said to himself "Hermione, what do you think about this?"  
  
"Forget it" she replied, without even looking at it.  
  
Each revision class seemed to begin identically, give or take a few sighs of foreboding. No teacher was shy about letting everyone know at every possible available moment of the dire importance of the N.E.W.T.s. Harry was thoroughly bored with it. Yes, it was imperative that they work to their utmost abilities. Yes, the results of the exams would have tremendous impacts on the rest of their lives. So why were the teachers wasting precious time telling this to them instead of actually teaching?  
Harry strummed his fingers on his desk as Professor McGonagall repeated her version of the same speech he had been hearing all day.  
"...one of the most important things you will ever do. I must impress upon you the seriousness of these exams. They should not be taken lightly. This year, they must be your utmost priority. All else can wait. Your future lies within the tests ..."  
The future. What of the future? If Professor Trewlany's prediction was true, his future didn't lie with these tests, but with the ultimate test; Harry against Lord Voldemort  
  
The first exams rolled around far too quickly. Some of them were very easy, namely the muggle studies exam which was so easy Harry nearly fell asleep. He was astounded that living with the Dursleys could actually be beneficial.  
  
Others were very hard, the Defence Against the Dark Arts was very difficult. It was partly written and partly practical. Harry was confident that he had performed well in the practical, after all, he had a vested interest in learning the subject.  
  
Charms was fairly average, and Harry felt he had done reasonably well. Ron didn't look so confident.  
  
Hermione said she found the Transfiguration practical exam was surprisingly easy; they had to perform a number of different charms and they were graded on their effort and neatness.  
  
Potions was a different story.  
  
Harry's potion didn't shimmer as it should have done, but it was definitely the right colour and viscosity.  
  
'Well, that was bloody awful,' said Ron wearily, as he and Hermione entered the common room in the aftermath of their Potions' final.  
'Ron, don't swear,' said Hermione primly  
  
"I'll never be an Auror now" he sighed, flopping into the seat next to Harry  
  
"What happened? "asked Harry, bracing himself for Ron's ranting, which was considerable.  
  
"So then I thought, oh no I've done it wrong and then I put half a cup full of water in just to soften it up a bit and it might have worked"  
  
"It could have been worse" interupted Hermione.  
  
"How?"  
  
"I saw Goyle brewing his potion wrong and the look on his face as it bubbled red instead of being flat and silver. Then there was poor Hannah Abbot who seemed to be trying so hard but still managing to burn her fingers and make the potion completely wrong"  
  
Ginny sat her first O.W.L and vowed that if she ever laid eyes on another exam, she'd hurt someone. Ron wasn't entirely sure she was kidding. Luna was her usual calm serene self.  
"Well, you know what I think", began Ron, "If she can keep her head while everyone else has lost their's, then she hasn't understood what's going on"  
  
Harry glanced up at the ceiling of the Great Hall as he and Ron walked through the huge oak double doors towards the Gryfindor table. The ceiling was bewitched to show the sky; today it was overcast and the grey clouds chased each other.  
  
He followed Ron across the stone floor to the long wooden table that ran the length of the Hall.  
  
Breakfast was eaten in near silence as most of the students had examinations later, although Harry was in the minority having already finished his. Ron sat next to him, spooning in his porridge with one hand, and turning the pages in his Herbology book with the other. Hermione and Ginny sat opposite, both looking tired and stressed. As usual, breakfast was interupted by the noisey arrival of the owl post. Unusally though, Harry received a letter. Even stranger, it was from Dumbledore.  
  
There is a meeting tonight which you should attend. It is of the utmost importance that you tell no one.  
  
Professor Dumbledore.  
  
Bemused, Harry put the letter into his pocket. He looked up to see Hermione reading The Daily Prophet.  
  
"Anything good happening in there?" he asked  
  
Hermione shock her head. "No. Only more muggle killings" she replied glumly.  
  
Not another word was said during the rest of the meal, and the others said their goodbyes and headed off to the library for more revision.  
  
I wonder what Luna's got today, thought Harry, as he stood up to return to the Gryfindor tower, then changed his mind mid step, which made him appear to stumble, as he changed direction towards the Ravenclaw table.  
  
"Hello" he said, sitting himself on the wooden bench next to Luna, who was eating by herself, and reading the latest edition of the Quibbler.  
  
"Good morning" she replied, with a faint smile. Harry glanced at the article she was reading. It was entitled "How to tell if He-who-must-not-be-named is your neighbour".  
  
"You alright?"  
  
"I'm going to fail everything" she began. Her eyes were bulging. "I don't know how people pass exams"  
  
"I reckon you'll pass Defence against Dark Arts no trouble" said Harry grabbing her hand. "What else have you got?"  
  
"Potions. I'll never pass it. Snape hates me"  
  
"He hates me more" said Harry. And with good reason, he thought  
  
"This is different. He picks on me because he thinks I'm weird" Luna's voice had gone up an octave and she was starting to sound a bit hysterical.  
  
"Don't wory about it. He's not going to be examining you, and that makes a big difference"  
  
Luna had the same expression as Ron when Hermione was trying to convince him of something. Harry knew it meant that she didn't believe him.  
  
"Okay, then. I'll help you."  
  
"How? Take Polyjuice potion and be me for an afternoon?" she asked sarcastically, still with the same squeaky voice. She was beginning to test Harry's patience. It reminded him of the time Hermione tried to study every subject in the third year and nearly had a breakdown.  
  
I wonder if that would work? Harry thought. "Takes too long to brew, but I'll test you if you want"  
  
Luna seemed to calm down a little. She finished her breakfast and they walked out of the hall together. The sky had changed in the last hour; the clouds were gone, and the sun was shining.  
  
"Where shall we go then?" Luna asked  
  
"Somewere quiet, somewere you feel comfortable." Harry thought for a moment. "How about the lake?"  
  
He spent the entire day with Luna in the shade of the trees at the side of the lake, breaking only for lunch. Harry passed on his tips for making the perfect potion, most important of all was to read the instructions properly, a lesson that had taken him an extraordinary amount of time to learn. He was testing her on the properties of moonstone, when she suddenly, lost interest, and stared at the undergrowth.  
  
"What, am I boring you or something?" he asked, slightly anoyed.  
  
"Shh. There's something silver moving in there" she whispered pointing at a small shrub to their left.  
  
"It's probably a crimpled snorehat or something" said Harry testily, turning to look at the shrub  
  
"No. They're black" she said, missing the sarcasm in Harry's comment. "Look, it's moved again".  
  
Harry saw it and drew his wand, Luna followed his lead. A rat darted out from the bush, and ran away from them across the parched grass, towards the Whomping Willow. The rat had a silver paw.  
  
"Wormtail" snarled Harry setting off after him, feeling anger and disgust rising inside him.  
  
"Stupify"  
  
Harry's curse missed Wormtail, creating a crater in the hard mud behind the rat.  
  
"Accio rat"  
  
Harry continued to rain hexes on the rat as he chased it around the lake, much to the anoyance of the other Hogwarts students he passed, who trying to study. Unfortunately Wormtail was too small and fast for him. Luna was following a short distance behind.  
  
THAWK  
  
Intense pain filled Harry's arm. He stumbled, and fell over sideways onto the grass. Once again, he had come off worse against the Whomping Willow. This was the tree that almost wrecked Mr Weasley's flying Ford Anglia, utterly destroyed his Nimbus 2000, and given him and Hermione a good thrasing the time they followed Sirius into the Shreiking shack.  
  
Harry saw a flicker of silver as Wormtail disappeared inot the tunnel as he rolled backwards out of reach of the tree. Luna caught up with him and helped him to his feet by grabbing his injured arm.  
  
"Arghh" he screamed. Luna apologised.  
  
"Help me look for a long stick". Harry could see the knot that froze the tree, but needed something long to reach it, without sustaining further harm.  
  
A suitable stick was soon found, and once the tree was immobile, Harry and Luna raced in the tunnel.  
  
"He's not here" said Harry astounded. "I know I saw him run in here"  
  
They were standing in the middle of what would probably have been the living room. The bare floor boards creaked as they walked across them. It smelt mouldy and the wall paper was peeling from the walls. Surrounding them was destroyed furniture; some riped, others with large bite marks on them. All were thick with dust.  
  
"Expelliarmus!" Wormtail entered the room, casting his spell as he did, and catching Harry and Luna's wands in his silver hand as they soared through the air.  
  
Luna span round. She faced him with an upturned chin, an arched eyebrow and a message of hate flashing in her eyes.  
  
Wormtail hadn't changed since their last meeting, three years ago when Sirius wanted to kill him. He was still short, Harry remembered that then they were approximately the same height, now Harry looked down on him. His hair was still thin, colourless and scruffy, face still pointy and rodent-like.  
  
"What are you doing hear? What do you want?" spat Harry  
  
"I've come to repay my debt" said Wormtail  
  
"What?" said Harry incredulously. He couldn't believe that this wretched man had caused him so much loss. The desire to hurt Wormtail was taking all of Harry's self control to suppress.  
  
"First, we need some privacy" said Wormtail slowly. He turned slowly towards Luna with an evil grin on his face and stunned her. She screamed sofly, then fell to the floor, causing a cloud of dust to fly into the air.  
  
Harry moved aggressively towards Wormtail, who quickly pointed his wand away from Luna in the direction of Harry's chest.  
  
"As I said, I'm repaying my debt. You're not going to that meeting tonight"  
  
"How do you know about it?" asked Harry.  
  
"That's not your business. But I can't have you warning Dumbledore, so you and her will spend the night here in the Shreiking Shack"  
  
"No deal" said Harry, eying the wand  
  
Wormtail started pacing around the dirty room, leaving footsteps in the dust as he did.  
  
"I've already done enough. Who do you think put that wizard under the imperious curse to destroy the ice cream parlour? And who do you think put the werewolf in the forest? Malfoy. That's who"  
  
Harry said nothing.  
  
"Malfoy has been trying to make you and your little friends suffer all year. He wants revenge for the time he spent in Azakaban. Who do you think his son learnt the Dark Arts from? Why do you think Draco wanted to kill you?" Wormtail stopped pacing and looked Harry directly in the eyes.  
  
"Who do you think delayed that wizard who attacked the Ice Cream Parlour in Diagon Alley long enough until you and your friends had left? Who made sure the werewolf didn't attack you? Me."  
  
He turned and glanced around the dirty room.  
  
"I've been saving your worthless hide all year. You don't have any say in the matter. I'm risking my life by telling you. If the Dark Lord finds out, I'm dead."  
  
Wormtail dropped Harry and Luna's wands by the door, constantly watching Harry to keep him a safe distance away.  
  
Harry was wishing he had taken a leaf from Mafoy's book and kept a spare wand hidden. Wormtail evidently knew something that would be of benefit to the order. Dumbledore's words came to him; he could perform magic without the need for a wand. He concerntrated hard.  
  
"Legimens"  
  
Wormtail obviously had a weak mind; Harry was inside it, learning his secrets. He was in another dusty room, face to face with Voldemort. Harry stared at the pale white face with it's red slitty eyes. He could sense that Wormtail was scared. He felt his hands shaking.  
  
"Tonight, Wormtail, tonight we wipe out the order"  
  
"That's good m m master" stammered Wormtail. Harry felt his fear; his hands shook uncontrollably.  
  
"There is a meeting tonight, and I have learned it's location through my informer. "  
  
Suddenly the room swam in front of him, and Harry was winded as he hit the floor. Wormtail had fought the spell, and was standing over him, wand raised.  
  
"You've learnt enough" he hissed. "Stupify"  
  
The Burrow was lying in ruins. Black smoke was pouring from the rubble. The garden looked like a battle ground. Several bodies lay smouldering on the ground.  
  
Malfoy charged forward, shouting the incantation to the sky:  
  
"MORSMORDRE SUBSANNATIO!"  
  
A blast of greenish light issued from his wand, rising into the sky over the hill and forming into the serpent-skull that was the symbol of the Dark Mark. Another blast of greenish light, slightly darker in color, erupted from Malfoy's partner's wand, and struck its target dead center in the chest. The effects of the curse on the victim was immediate, much to Malfoy's satisfaction.  
  
Malfoy ran up and looked down at their victim, as his comrade joined him, admiring his handiwork. With fixed stares of hatred, they looked at the limp body on the ground. It was Mr Weasley, and he was unmistakably dead. Malfoy's partner broke into a grin and spoke.  
  
"That's what you get for being a muggle loving fool Weasley"  
  
Looming above them, the Dark Mark opened its mouth and a huge yellow tongue came out.  
  
"Where's Potter?" asked Harry. I'm here thought Harry, then he realised he was seeing through Voldemorts eyes and listening to his thoughts.  
  
"Wormtail" he shouted "Where's Potter? He is supposed to be here"  
  
Wormtail was cowering by a tree in The Burrow's garden. It was a pathetic sight and Harry felt pity for him, as he had done when he prevented Lupin and Sirius from killing him.  
  
"He is watching us!" roared Voldemort.  
  
Harry tried to clear his mind, but was too slow; Wormtail's curse had weakened his defences. Voldemort was able to extract with ease all the details of Wormtail's wizard debt to Harry, and the events in the Shreiking Shack that day.  
  
Harry woke with a start. He was cold and aching all over. The sky was dark outside realised that it was imperative that he spoke to Dumbledore as soon as possible. He got to his feet and stumbled out of the room, leaving Luna where she was.  
  
His scar started to burn white hot, causing him to stop and lean against the side of the damp, dark tunnel. Wormtail was being punished, or worse.  
  
The grounds were pitch black, but Harry knew the route back to the castle and was outside Dumbledores office within ten minutes. But Dumbeldore wasn't there.  
  
Snape was on his late night prowls though. "What are you doing out of bed at this time of night? I think that's 10 points from Gryfindor"  
  
"Where's Professor Dumbledore?"  
  
"The headmaster's business is none of yours Potter, and a further five points from Gryfindor for not addressing me properly. Why are you covered in dirt? What have you been doing?"  
  
"I was in the Shreiking Shack with Luna" Harry blurted, then cursed himself for not thinking before he opened his mouth.  
  
Snape raised his eyebrows. "I'm not interested in your sordid noctural activites Potter, but I will deduct a further 50 points for being out of bounds from you both, and another 50 each for improper behavoiur"  
  
"It's not like that" shouted Harry  
  
Harry knew that he didn't have time for this. "The burrow has been attacked". He was pleased to see the smug expression on Snape's face change to concern.  
  
"I'll alert the order". Snape was gone with a swish of his black robe.  
  
Why wasn't Snape at the meeting?  
  
Harry stood in the dimly lit corridor, overcome with an intense feeling of uselessness. Suddenly he realised what he had to do, and ran back through the castle.  
  
He raced across the moonlite grounds to Hagrid's hut. His Firebolt may be fast, but Sirius's bike was faster still, and time mattered. He wheeled it round to the front of the hut and pushed the starter. A growl that shook the branches of the trees in the Forbidden Forest announced that the engine had come to life. Harry lept on, selected first, opened the throttle, released the clutch and shot forward. The grass churned under the large rear tyre as the bike charged towards the school. He selected second gear and pulled up on the handle bars. As the bike reached take off speed, he eased it round away from the school and towards the gates.  
  
As he passed over the hut, Hagrid came out and started waving his arms, calling to Harry. No doubt he had been woken by the noise. Harry saw the tyre marks in the grass, fifty meters long, such was the force of the bike's acceleration. Third gear brought 120 mph, fourth delivered 160 mph, and fifth reached 210 mph. Soon Hogwarts was hidden in the dark behind the mountains.  
  
The line of the horizon was clear and hard against the sky, and in one particular quarter it showed black against a silvery climbing phosphorescence that grew and grew. At last, over the rim of the waiting earth the moon lifted slowly until it swung clear of the horizon and rode off, free of moorings. Harry began to see the panorama beneath him - meadows widespread, rivers and quiet gardens, all softy disclosed, all washed clean of mystery, all radiant as by day.  
  
The aerodynamic charm that Sirius cast meant that the airflow around the bike was directed away from Harry. He flew south for hours in the cool dark night, while the moon did what it could to help guide the way; till it's hour came and it sank earthwards reluctantly, then vanished beneath the horizon. Mystery once more held the landscape, and Harry found himself dreading the sight he expected to see upon his arrival.  
  
Harry saw the main road into Ottery St Catchpole, lit by muggle street lamps. Slowly a change began to declare itself. To the east, a faint pastel pink glow was visible on the horizon beneath the clouds. The sky became clearer, fields and trees came into sight.  
  
He slowed the bike down to bring it closer to the ground. It skimmed the tops of trees, then hit the road with a squeal from the rear tyre. The bike bucked and weaved for a moment then righted itself. The brilliant orange sun appeared through the trees, and it reminded him of his first visit to The Burrow, just before the start of his second year at Hogwarts. Then he remembered why he was here and urged the bike onwards. It growled menancingly as Harry rode through the sleeping village.  
  
Then he saw the Dark Mark, and feared the worst. As he aproached The Burrow he began to smell the black smoke that was curling it's way into the sky. He turned the final corner to see for real the utter devastation he had witnessed in his vision.  
  
Lupin and Dumbledore were patroling the yard extinguishing the fires with their wands. The Burrow had been raised to the ground. What was once a home, several stories high, was now unrecognisable. They looked up as Harry rode in. Lupin looked pale and shocked, whereas Dumbledore merely appear tired.  
  
"For a second I thought you were Sirius" said Lupin. "What are you doing here Harry?"  
  
"I had to come. I saw what happened"  
  
"Saving people again Harry?" asked Dumbledore  
  
Harry looked down at his feet.  
  
"It's nothing to be sorry about. It's one of your greatest qualities" said Dumbledore, forcing a smile onto his dirty face. "But there is nothing anyone can do anymore. Bill, George, Fred, Molly and Arthur have all been taken to St Mungo's. Fleur was here but she ran once she realised what was happening. She too is in St Mungo's being treated for shock."  
  
"We also found a number of injured Death Eaters, who have been taken away by the Aurors" added Lupin  
  
"But the Weasley's will be alright? Won't they?" asked Harry  
  
No one answered; the silence spoke much louder than words. Lupin and Dumbledore looked at each other, then after a moment Dumbledore spoke. "No Harry. I'm sorry"  
  
Harry was stunned. He stood there, numb, just staring. It was too much to take in. He remembered the first time he met the Weasley's on platform 93/4 before he started at Hogwarts, and then when he met Mr Weasley after flying in his Ford Anglia. He rembered the look on Mrs Weasly's face when they arrived at The Burrow, the twins grins when they gave Dudley the ton tongue toffee.  
  
He had had some good times at The Burrow with the Weasley's, and now they were gone. Forever. Like rain falling into the sea; they would not come back.  
  
For an hour he helped Lupin and Dumbledore to remove the Dark Mark before any muggles saw it, and talking about what had happened. The sun rose above the trees, and it's light brought out the horror of the nights events.  
  
Another body was found lying face down in the garden. Some Red Caps had already discovered it and were eating part of a leg. Harry felt nauseous as their tiny blood stained faces gorged on the remains.  
  
Harry approached triping over an arm that was hidden in the dew laden, knee length grass. He recognised the long blond hair covering the top half of the blood soaked robes. Suddenly a terribe howl cut through the silence. The noise came from the bottom of a large tree trunk.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore, Remus" shouted Harry at the two figures walking amonsgt the ruins.  
  
"What is it Harry" called Lupin turning and running towards Harry. Lupins gaze fell upon the body, his nose wrinkled in disgust at the Red Caps.  
  
"Vile creatures" he snarled, "but I suppose that's the best that Lucious Malfoy deserves"  
  
"Bad Dobby, bad bad Dobby", then "THUNK", followed by a quieter thud. It was the unmistakable sound of Dobby punishing himself.  
  
"Dobby" called Harry, "Dobby, where are you? And stop punishing yourself"  
  
They watched as a pair a bat like ears made their way through the long grass towards them. Harry looked down to see the bruised, battered and tear stained face of Dobby the house elf.  
  
"Dobby has killed his old master" he sniffed. "Dobby had no choice. Old master was trying to kill Professor Dumbledore."  
  
"It's okay" said Harry, stroking the top of the elf's head "You don't need to punish yourself anymore"  
  
"Why are you hear Dobby?" asked Harry  
  
"Dobby, and a group of freed house elves were at the meeting last night t be inducted into The Order" Dumbledore spoke as they took long strides through the grass.  
  
"How much did you see in your vision?" asked Lupin  
  
"Not much. The ruins, Malfoy, and Mr Weasley. Why didn't I know this was going to happen?" asked Harry. "That's the point of legimens, isn't it?"  
  
"It seems that Voldemort has learnt to shut his mind to you. It's very important that you don't blame yourself for this Harry" replied Dumbledore. "It is also very important that Miss Granger, Ron Weasley and Miss Weasley don't know about this"  
  
"What!" said Harry in disbelief "how can they not know? They'll find out sooner or later"  
  
"I will tell them, later. They are about to sit examinations that will affect their entire lives. I'm sure you are aware what a shock like this will do to them"  
  
Harry looked unconvinced.  
  
"I must insist on your word Harry". Dumbledore spoke quietly, but Harry knew the only possible course was to agree. He nodded.  
  
Once the trio had done all they could at The Burrow, Dumbledore turned, scanning the devastation until his eyes reached Harry who was standing beside a crater, possibly caused by a deflected curse.  
  
"I need to know why you weren't at the meeting tonight" he said grimly.  
  
Harry took a deep breath and recieted the events of the previous day, and how Wormtail had captured them in the Shreiking Shack. Dumbledore and Lupin listened intently, without interuption.  
  
"Wormtail won't be bothering you anymore" said Lupin once Harry had finished his tale. "You're standing next to the place anyone saw him last"  
  
Harry cast his eyes down at the charred edges of the crater and shuddered.  
  
"Professor" said Harry looking at Dumbledore, "I used legicemy on Wormtail. I found out that Voldemort had an informer. And there's something else; Snape wasn't at the meeting"  
  
"Professor Snape" said Dumbledore, stressing the title, "was not required to attend the meeting."  
  
"Oh" said Harry "Professor, I need to return to Hogwarts. Luna is still in the Shrieking Shack"  
  
"Yes, yes. We should all return now. There is nothing more to be done here" Dumbledore drew his wand, pointed it at the motorbike and mubbled "Portus"  
  
Before they touched the motor bike Dumbledore spoke once more .  
"The Order of the Pheonix has suffered a great loss tonight." He paused "Destruction leads to a very rough road, but it also breads creation. We have much work to do, if this particular bird is ever to rise from it's ashes."  
  
He paused. "If we don't the future wll be very bleak indeed".  
  
"We also need to find Voldemort's spy" added Lupin.  
  
"Erm shouldn't we do something about Malfoy?" asked Harry tentertively  
  
"Red Caps are quite efficient scavengers; they will leave little if no mess" replied Dumbledore  
  
Harry woke Luna, who it transpired, was not pleased to have spent the entire night on a dusty floor.  
  
"I could have been eaten alive by dust Nargles" she said as she stomped out of the room towards the tunnel, brushing the dirt from her robes with her hand as she went.  
  
"Luna wait" Harry called after her. "There's something important you need to know. He ran after her and caught her by the arm  
  
"A terrible thing happened last night". Harry drew a deep breath and told her the story. When he got to the part about the motorbike, she exploded  
  
"So because he owed you a debt, I had to spend the entire night on a dusty floor, and you didn't wake me, and you went off on that motorbike to have an adventure all by yourself"  
  
Harry looked at his feet. He didn't want to say the next sentence. Luna looked at him.  
  
"What? She said crossly "Then what happened?"  
  
"Ron's parents" he stopped and looked at her. Luna's expression changed immeadiately to concern.  
  
"And his brothers" Luna put her arm around him. He couldn't bring himself to say they were dead  
  
"The Burrow was attacked last night by Voldemort. Only Dumbledore and Lupin survived"  
  
Ron, Hermione and Ginny sat their final exams that afternoon, and Harry had taken great care not to speak to any of them before hand. Once they had finished Professor Mcgonagall escorted them to the Headmaster's office. Harry waited with Luna, sitting in the shade of the tree beside the lake. It seemed odd that his father sat here with Lupin and Sirius. Perhaps Mr & Mrs Weasley also sat here, perhaps Bill did. He knew the twins had and that the only thing seperating them all was time. They were all in the same place, just at different times. Somehow this comforted him.  
  
The sun was shining and the giant squid was sunning itself in the shallow part of the lake. He listened to the wind blowing the leaves above him and watched the ripples on the lake. Occasionally students would walk past, but apart from that, there was no one else in the grounds. It would have been a beautiful day, if only...  
  
Ron Ginny & Hermione appeared with puffy red eyes sometime later. They sat next to them, each deep in their own thoughts, and nobody said a word for sometime.  
  
"How much did you see?" asked Ron timidly some time later. Ginny sobbed and Hermione wipped her eyes.  
  
"Not much, just The Burrow and the Dark Mark" Harry lied. He didn't want to upset Ron anymore by telling him that he actually saw his father killed.  
  
"I heard you leave on the motor bike" said Hermione.  
  
"I think everybody did" said Harry. "Hagrid came out waving his arms about."  
  
"Why didn't you wake me?" asked Ron  
  
"I didn't know I was going" replied Harry. He paused, then continued "there wouldn't have been enough room on the bike anyway"  
  
"Oh. But I could have gone on one of those mad horse things" Ron was starting to get cross. Hermione put her arm around his shoulders.  
  
"Ron" she said calmly "It was early in the morning and Harry probably was only thinking about getting to The Burrow. You can't be angery with him for what happened. This is a terrible shock for all of us"  
  
Ron took a deep breath closed his eyes. "I'm sorry"  
  
"It's alright."  
  
Harry knew what Ron & Ginny were going through. The loss of Sirius left hole inside him; the loss of their parents and brothers must have carved a gaping chasm. Harry was lucky, Sirius had returned, and he had Luna.  
  
Ron, Ginny and Hermione returned to the school for lunch. Harry and Luna remained at the lake, talking. The day drew on and the large fiery mass that was the sun eventually disappeared behind the powdered mounds of mountains surrounding the enigmatic school. Though it was past ten o'clock, the sky still clung to and retained some lingering skirts of light from the department day; and the sullen heat of the torrid afternoon broke up and rolled away at the dispersing touch of the cool fingers of the short mid-sumer night.  
Harry lay streched on the bank, still sweating from the stress of the fierce day that had been cloudless from dawn to late sunset He remembered the time Mrs Weasley failed to remove the boggart from Grimauld Place, and how she had seen her family and Harry dead. Who was going to look after Ron and Ginny now? he wondered. Lupin had promised that The Order wouldn't let them starve. Perhaps Dumbledore would let them stay at Hogwarts; perhaps Harry could stay also.  
Gently, the moon rose to the sky, joined soon after by it's companionable stars. Several hours passed before the cool wind forced Harry and Luna to seek shelter. "Will you walk me back to the common room, I'm getting cold" asked Luna.  
  
Harry got to his feet and helped her up. Arm in arm they walked across the grounds. Under the dappled moonlight of a large oak tree as he looked over the shimering water of the vast lake before him. Sighing, he glanced up at the full moon, admiring it's magnificence. It was so close and yet so far away, like so many things in his life. The memories clouding his mind drifted silently through his thoughts, some recent and others once thought to be forgotten.  
You think the dead we have loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don't recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble?  
Harry remembered what Dumbledore had said to him the night they saved Sirius from the Dementors, and he thought he had seen his father. Perhaps it was true; perhaps he, or Ron might even see the Weasley family again. After all, Sirius had returned, lifting the blanket of misery Harry had been hiding under, and was his father not his protector? His patronus? Looking back up at Hogwarts castle, encased in a shimmering beam of moonlight, he sighed.  
  
Harry said goodnight to Luna outside her common room. So much had happened that day that would have repercussions for the rest of his life. With his mind in this state he knew he would never be able to sleep. For a while he wandered aimlessly thrugh the castle, churning the events over in his mind. There was one person in the castle that didn't need sleep that he could talk to. He ran through the castle to Myrtle's bathroom, and pushed open the door.  
  
"Sirius" he whispered "Sirius, are you here"  
  
"Hello Harry, what's up? Why aren't you asleep?" said the pale ghost of Sirius.  
  
Harry lent against the wall and told the story once again. When he finished, Sirius sat down and looked at him.  
  
"I feel sorry for you, Ron and Hermione, these people have run mindlessly over all of your childhoods."  
  
"What was your childhood like" asked Harry  
  
"It was full of mystery and wonder" replied Sirius. "We were so full of ourselves that nothing seemed beyond our boundaries. We probably thought we were brighter than the sun" He chuckled.  
  
"But we wasted a lot of our talent. I remember one day finding that ten years had got behind me, and all I had was plans that had come to nothing." He sounded a bit more solemn now.  
  
"Time took my dreams away, and left me with a life that was consumed by slow decay in Azkaban. No matter how hard you try, you'll never catch up that time." Sirius had a bitter tone in his voice.  
  
Harry said nothing for a while, considering Sirius's words.  
  
"Sirius, can Ron's family come back as ghosts, like you"  
  
Sirius shoke his head. I didn't really die. The ancient magic that resides in that arch has only moved me to another place, my soul still exists."  
  
"But what about"  
  
"They were killed by the killing curse." Sirius interupted. "It totally destroys the soul. That's why your parents aren't here"  
  
"And Percy?"  
  
"Same thing. The dementors took his soul, so it doesn't exist either"  
  
"Harry" said Sirius, looking unusally flustered. "When this has calmed down a bit, we need to talk"  
  
"What about?" Harry was a bit nervous. Siruis sounded something pressing on his mind.  
  
"The future"  
  
"What about it?"  
  
"Things are going to get worse, much worse than this. But in the end, everything will be as it should. Did you know there is Seers blood in Ron's family?"  
  
"No, but Mrs Weasley" Harry paused. It was another painful memory" She was fighting a boggart in Grimauld Place, and she saw...saw everyone dead."  
  
"Perhaps now's not the best time for this" said Sirius. "Look Harry, it's late. Why don't you get some sleep"  
  
Harry bade Sirius goodnight and left the bathroom. He still wasn't tired enough to sleep, so again, he found himself meandering through the castle.  
  
Slowly he climbed the spiraling staircase up towards the Astronomy Tower, towards the West wing of Hogwarts castle. Panting, he pushed open the large oak door, moonlight illuminating his features. He stared up at the full moon and felt comforted by the shimmer that was radiated from its surface. He moved over to a nearby ledge and lifted himself onto the cold stone platform, dangling his legs over the side and swinging them idly in time with the cool breeze. His eyes roamed over the moon lit site before him, even the Forbidden forest looked beautiful from his position. With the light gently brushing the tops of black, ethereal trees and shrubbery and gentle tufts of clouds descending over the scene  
  
He thought forlornly over his life and nothing but pain and misery came to mind, constant anguish that could not have been avoided. And so, he sat there, hoping to take his mind off all that had happened. His thoughts strayed constantly and without boundary, delving deeper into the confines of his mind. Voldemort had taken almost everything he held dear. 


End file.
